We’ve been friends for quite some time now, long before high school, long before puberty, possibly even earlier. You’ve kept a steady hand at my back, a tight grip on my shoulders, and made sure to be there in my darkest hours. You’re around when I buy groceries reminding me some things cost more than money and my thighs can’t afford it. You’re there when I look in the mirror and there when I step on the scale, a sweet whisper in my ear saying you should be better.
You’re there to remind me of my failures, so I can remember that I can’t do better.
You play my embarrassments on loop, so I remember who I really am.
You slip in side-by-side comparisons when every pretty girl walks by, so I know what I’ll never be.
You are always there when I fall to remind me this is where I belong.
Over the years I’ve called you different things by the ways of “security blanket” or “that’s just who I am”. You’ve worn different faces in friends and boyfriends and mentors and peers, but mostly one that looks very similar to me.
For so long you’ve been apart of my life, we’ve basically become one, and over time, together, we’ve created something big and impressive, monstrous and terrifying that skulks through the plains of my mind — my own worst enemy.
You recently took on the face of someone I once considered a friend, and in a vile and vicious attack you told me to get some confidence along with other things.
Well here’s step one: Insecurity, kindly piss off.
Actually scratch that, pack all of your shit and leave. Take all of your advice and needling comparisons, take all of your scathing insults and side-eye’d looks and just GTFO. You’re no longer needed here, and most importantly you are not welcomed here.
I will rise above my failure, because I can learn from my mistakes.
I will laugh at my embarrassments, because perfection is boring.
I will smile at and compliment the pretty girl as she walks by, because we all need a little boost sometimes.
And when I fall, I will get back up and soar above everything that knocked me down.
Today, my #wcw goes to me, because without you, I am amazing. Without you, I am fearless. Without you, I am proud to be me.
See you never,
One thought on “Open Letter To My Insecurities”
You are enough! The only way to seize the comparisons and expectation of perfection from ourselves is to realize that we are simply enough. Nobody is perfect, nobody is without fault, and nobody is perfect. So how can we sit here and tell ourselves that we should be all of those things!? Kristen, you are enough my friend!