Authentic

The more I grow up, the “older” I get
The more I realise
I don’t want to be sexy
I don’t want to be a perfect picture of beautiful
I don’t want to spend my time laboriously working on my handles, or thighs, or surfboard stomach
The more I grow up the more I cringe at the flattering remarks
Even though I give them out myself to friends and family and strangers
It’s nice to complement and be complemented
But I’m tired of my inner dialogue of comparison
This conversation of comparison that dehumanises me
Holding myself and others up to some ridiculous standard of humanity

Now I find I’m falling in love with authentic
Authentic is attractive in a way that doesn’t pull the lust strings
Authentic is beautiful in a way that doesn’t scream “why wasn’t I born that way?”
Authentic is attainable
Authentic is not needing to prove myself to anybody
Authentic is loving who I am
Working on my shortcomings without feeling like a failure for having them
Being confident in my gifts and abilities, without feeling small if others have more
I can love more purposefully, more purely because authentic is not about what others can give me, authentic is about how I contribute by just being me

Perfect does not exist
I fail, regularly
Often have views that need adjusting or throwing out
I let my friends down, I’m not always there for my family
Daily I know, there are things I could do better
But I do say I’m sorry, I do try harder
But I’m only human and I know I’ll not get through this life without upsetting some people
I’m done with trying to be who I perceive others want me to be
I’m done with being crippled by insecurity
I’m glad to say I have virtues that I admire in myself
I love who I am
Being able to say that hasn’t come easily
But I believe it’s a vital journey to undertake
To strip away the world’s expectations
Strip away the hate and negative opinions
Learn to just be you, sit with whatever and wherever life has taken you
And tell yourself, “I love you!”

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