also y’all need to fall in love with your bare faces. don’t “tolerate” or “deal with” the way your face looks without any makeup on, actively embrace and love your natural features. spend some time naked in the mirror and memorize your body. smile at yourself. laugh with yourself. enjoy the way your hair looks unstyled, the way your body looks unshaved. fall in love with the way your body looks when you’re not trying to change everything about it.
Etikett: positive
I know it sounds fake but you really do have a lot of silent lovers on this planet who look at you and wish they had your smile or your hair color or your humor or your intellect or your intentions or your heart, your manners, your eyes, your ease, even just you. People who are too shy to tell you what they admire about you or what they wish for you or who they see themselves becoming bc of you & they’re too shy to tell you. even tho it isn’t verbalized, the universe has still heard and the universe has loved you for helping out on its creations. You’re that person. You’re you.
“We…need to forgive ourselves…For all the things we didn’t do. All the things we should have done. You can’t get stuck on the regrets of what should have happened.”
— Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie
if you are having trouble with eating:
- you deserve to eat
- you need to eat
- food is not the enemy
- calories give you the energy to smile
- you are worthy
- you are loved
- i am proud of you for fighting, you can do this!!
- 5 seconds of insane courage, it’s all you need
- your struggles are real, so is your bravery
- you are good enough
- you are not a mistake
- you are one of a kind
- every cell in your body needs love
if it makes you happy, it’s not a waste
whoever’s reading this, i pray that you find happiness. not temporary happiness, or “if i pretend and put on a smile & laugh, maybe i’ll be happy” kind of happiness, but long lasting real happiness. the kind of happiness that makes ur face glow & lights up ur soul. you deserve it
Honestly? Shoutout to those of you who are completely fucking lost in life. Those who don’t know what they want to do with life. Those who are stuck in a certain part of life and can’t get out. Those who are reaching for dreams they feel are impossible to reach. Those who feel like they’re accomplishments are being overlooked. Those who feel like their enough just isn’t enough. It is. You can make it. You will make it. There is an opening at the end of the tunnel.
When heading to the beach this summer, remember that Aphrodite encourages you to love yourself when you’re visiting her sacred birth place. Do not feel ashamed of your body, it mirrors the gods.
It’s a real strange experience to find out what other people’s favorite pictures of you are. You get so focused on the right angle and how sharp your jaw is and if you look like you’re posing naturally. Your favorite is where you’re ethereal or otherworldly or just the best version of who you want to be.
But then your best friend says it’s the one where the two of you are looking at a flower, the one you hate because your arms look bad and your chin is one with your neck. And your sister likes the one of you in the car, asleep with your mouth open, with greasy hair. Your mom likes “all of them, sweetie” but she particularly likes any you smile in.
It’s strange because what we want to show the world – perfection, beauty, effortless picturesque moments – they’re not what our loved ones look for.
They like what they see because it’s usually the real you, the one they love, the ugly unkempt unposed one. They love that you get so excited about nature and that you fall asleep on every car trip. They love your joy, and the way real smiles look, the silly moments and unflattering angles and all of it.
For a long time this plagued me. I can’t fucking take a good picture of myself.
But the other day I was looking through photos of my friends; thinking about what I liked and they didn’t. I liked the one where, yeah, she wasn’t quite twisted to the camera – but there was this glint in her eye I’m so familiar with. The one where he’s blurry in the snow but his smile is obvious anyhow. The one where she’s dancing in her bathing suit, full of abandon. The ones where it’s the memory that matters; candids under out of focus fireworks, overexposed kisses, left-the-flash-on at the top of a mountain.
I mean, I don’t think I’ll ever love my friends less just because they post an ugly picture. They could post a million of them and I’d still be down to hang in the morning. The idea that I’ll somehow become disgusted with them just for an ugly selfie is silly, selfish. Shallow. And not gonna happen.
So how come I expect them to leave just because I don’t always photograph like the epitome of beauty.
beberequin 