Being A Self-Critic is the WORST

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From as long as I can remember, I have been the worst critic of myself. I look in the mirror and see the flaws, the imperfections. My husband will say how beautiful I look in a new shirt, and once he turns a way I roll my eyes and grab ahold of my fat. I hate that I am short, because I look like an Oompa Loompa. I want to have those long thin legs, super model body. I want to be those girls in the magazines. I want different hair, curls are no fun. I want to be more successful. I want to better understand myself. I want to have smaller boobs, I want a smaller butt. I want a new everything.

But here is my real question; when does it all change? We are brought into this world with innocence, no hate. We do not even know what flaws are. We do not see people as white, african-american, asian, or hispanic. We do not see people as skinny or fat. We do not see poor or wealthy. We see people. We think that we are little angels. We live life, we play, we get dirty, and we make friends daily.

At some point though, it all changes. We look in the mirror and see things we don’t like. Like a lightbulb comes on in our over critical brains. It causes us to be less confident, it causes us to hide ourselves. But what causes it?

Is it the magazines, always over-criticizing women.

Is it the movies that only seem to have perfect women, that we do not look like?

Is it the adults who have developed this mentality silently judging us, giving those passing glances?

Is it the bullies in school?screen-shot-2018-06-19-at-1.20.26-pm

Is it society?

I personally think that it is a mixture of all those things. I know they all played a role for me. I had family who liked to point out my flaws, that I gained weight, or even at the perfect weight for my height would tap my stomach and tell me to suck it in or do sit-ups. I had girls telling me I was the biggest cheerleader on the squad. I had boys turn me down because I wasn’t a different girl. But you know what, I don’t care anymore.

I am me, and that makes me unique. No one else is like me. I have fallen in love with myself. I am by no means in love with every aspect of myself, I still see flaws. But I have learned to love those things that make me different. Yes, I have curly hair, but I can straighten on some days and let it go curly others, I have options. I have freckles that people wish they had, or so I have been told. I have dimples, gives me character. I have a unique name that I absolutely love, though I get mistaken for a “he” when I answer phone calls.

My point is, WHO CARES IF YOU DO NOT FIT THE STATUS QUO?

You would be way more dull if you did. Love yourself, you are made unique. Love your flaws, they are you. Those little girls and boys are watching. Start a trend. Let them know it’s okay to have flaws, and to look a little different. Enjoy life.

As Always,

Written with Love,

SNOOKS xo img_0400

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