stranger

Have you ever met someone and felt an overwhelming urge to get them to smile? I feel the heat from the light coming from their eyes. The human body. The softness of your cheek. The lines that crinkle by your eyes when you smile. The forehead lines, the shoulder blades, the fullness of your lips, the firmness in your hands. The human body is truly a beautiful thing. Yet, why don’t we appreciate them? We are forever poisoning them with the negative thoughts that we force through our minds. Media? Sure, blame it. But people make media, and media makes us who we are. People make us who we are. But how far should we let it go?

You’re beautiful. Yes you, with the gentle hips and the broad shoulders. Yes you, with the soft tummy and beating chest. Yes you, with the strong legs and trim waist. Yes you, with your short spiky hair. Yes you, with your wide eyes. Yes you. Why don’t you believe me? Why must it take model after model, person after person to stand on their platform and express their self love? Is our own reflection in the mirror not good enough to bring out such pride?

“Be yourself. Unapologetically. Don’t shrink because of anyone else’s feelings, opinions, or lifestyle. Don’t be too proud to ask for help or directions…it doesn’t make you weak, it shows your enthusiasm and desire to improve. Don’t be afraid to fail… because you will. Sometimes over and over again, but you’ll never get better standing still and you’ll never conquer your fears without walking straight through them. You are you, it’s true. But you get to choose. Choose to be you….and that’s whatever the hell you want it to be.”

I grew up with a beautiful Greek mother, with sun kissed skin and proud tiger stripes from carrying 4 babies, who would tell herself in the mirror every day, “I am so beautiful.” She would then turn to us kids and explain to us how lucky we were to have such a gorgeous mother like her. This is where my self love stemmed from. I was surrounded by beautiful brown skinned men and women in my family who did not know the meaning of self hate.

I have been told since I was little that I was beautiful, wonderful. and worthy of so much more than I could imagine. I mean, family is kind of obligated to say such things, but in a sense, I believed it. Of course, as puberty hit and I transitioned from a little girl with bruised legs and a big fat bow on top of my head, to a 13 year old with a broken out face and a little tummy from one too many muffins, self doubt hit me hard. Add a crazy curly afro into the mix and you’ve got a H O T M E S S. Yet, I still came home every day and was told I was beautiful. Years have passed and I am more comfortable with myself than ever before. I dress up for class every day (dress well, test well) and I am happy. Of course, there are always things we wish to change, but that makes us human. I can still look at the magazines or go on Instagram and see these ridiculously beautiful men and women, but what i find more interesting, is that usually the things they are most known for (freckles, hair, legs, eyes, ect) is what they have usually had the hardest time accepting about themselves. I get more compliments on my hair than anything, but when I was in high school, I hated it. I would straighten my curls almost every single day, wanting to be like the other girls with their sleek straight hair. It wasn’t until I was in college and let my freak flag fly high that I came to accept it. Now, I’ll straighten my hair on occasion just to shake things up, but feel lost without my curls, so the straight hair doesn’t last long.

I think we have all felt like strangers in these vessels we call our bodies. I know I have. Live in the moment and understand the blessings around you. Understand that you are beautifully made. You were created to create. Create the love inside of you first to then incorporate it to others.