Sometimes, I wish that I were different
I am not talking about weight, height, or physically
I wish I were the old me
The nice me
The one who didn't expect ulterior motives
Expect to be hurt
The one who was afraid to say no
Or come off as mean
Sometimes, I think I'm still in there
Deep down
Underneath the fake cloak of harshness wrapped around me
Used as a shield
Protecting me from the world
Still protecting the old me

She who spoke with no love,
waited on external acceptance
That, it never came

She who found comfort in a shell
Delicate and golden, but unrecognizable
to a polluted mind

She who bowed to insecurity
Scoured and torched by internal pain
She no longer seeks to remain

And she no longer will.

Growing up all I wanted was to be pretty
My dreams and ambitions
Revolved around physical aspects of myself
I always told myself that I would be better if I was
Skinnier
Or prettier
And eventually I couldn’t tell the difference between
Want and need

I was convinced my depression would go away
If I was 100 pounds lighter
If my skin was clearer
That I’d be more talented if I was a size zero
Because then I’d be able to write about happiness
And someone loving me back
Instead of being sad all the time

If I could tell my younger self one thing
It would be that you were not put on this earth
Just to be pretty

So now I tell myself that I am brave
And strong and resilient
I lived through parts of my life that should’ve defeated me
But I’m still standing here
And maybe I would be happy if I was a size zero
But I need to learn what happiness feels like
Without beauty getting in the way