Why The Fuck Are Insecurities So Loud?

Some days it feels like I may be doing alright; that I have successfully trained my mind to focus on the most beautiful things. Then, comes the invariable swing of the pendulum in the opposite direction. This side screams that I am worthless, that I have no right to expect anything beautiful, that I will never be more than I am now. What makes that voice so loud? Louder even than the words of those I love telling me that I am worthy, and strong, and brave, and fucking capable. 

Does it have to do with the instinct for survival? Is it years of learned self hatred? Is it a mentality of victimhood? A way for me to lay the culpability at the feet of another, some grand and unknowable force?

I don’t have the answers to these questions just yet. Or, maybe, I do. Maybe it is ‘yes’ to all of the above. Maybe that’s the first step for me. Acknowledging that sometimes I let my thoughts run rampant, like my dog off a leash: sometimes he comes back, but mostly he just wants to chase butterflies.

I am still learning. Michelangelo said that, and it is as true for me as it was for him. I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. I will hurt people that I love. I will veer off course. I guess what makes me strong, brave, and fucking capable is that I am willing to admit that. Regardless of what goes on around me, I am still me. A human. A spirit. Full of inherent value and worth. A beacon of love and light. 

I guess that’s the lesson, then: to carry on. Onward and upward. 

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Insecurity Is A Fickle Bitch

Shadow self. Dormant personality. Uncertainty. There is an endless barrage of naming conventions society uses in an attempt to quantify insecurities. Not only are they parts of ourselves that inherently connote shame, but it can sometimes feel incredibly overwhelming to overcome.

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