That girl. That girl over there. Too big for her age. Body not conforming to your standards or your ideals. That girl. She is perfect. She is everything that she needs. She is everything that anyone could ever wish to be.
That girl is me. I am fiercely protective of that girl. I was there with her every time she felt less than or undeserving of being alive. I was there every time her flesh crawled with their judgment, where she felt like she could never meet their harsh standards of perfection, where she wished she could have been anyone, except the person that she was trapped in her flesh.
I love that girl. I always have. I always saw more for her. I knew she was so capable. I believed in her. I believed in me. I saw her breaking through the stereotype you formed for her. I see her being her own self.
I scroll through pages where people change their lives and they write and reflect on how they hated who they were, and they are so nasty to themselves. I never felt that way. I never felt like I was undeserving. I just struggled with finding a way to be in this world, in a world full of razor blades and harshness, its hard to be a person like me, who is hurt so easily.
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