I was feeling pretty until you opened your mouth

 I wore what I liked today.

I looked in the mirror and thought,

“Maybe today I won’t hide behind loose clothes and fake smiles.”

Maybe today I’ll feel okay in my own skin.

Big mistake, apparently.

One look.

One comment.

One stupid sentence from someone who means nothing to me .

and I spiral like I’ve never worked on myself at all.

I carry myself like I’m okay. Like I don’t hear the whispers.

Like I haven’t hated every outfit I wore in 2019 and every photo taken of me since.

I smile, I make jokes, I show up .

and still, someone who doesn’t even know me thinks it’s their job to tell me what I look like?

Newsflash: I own a mirror.

And a bathroom scale.

And an entire archive of self-loathing stored in the notes app.

But thank you, random side character, for reminding me that people like me aren’t supposed to feel pretty.

Or confident.

Or seen.

This isn’t a cry for attention. This is me taking the mic back.

I’m allowed to take up space.

Even if it makes you uncomfortable.

Anyways good start for this month.