Sometimes, you just have to be honest with yourself. Our own perspectives can be so bloody warped; some people delude themselves with a sense of self-importance and entitlement, overstepping the boundaries of self-love into totally fucking annoying. Others beat themselves down so much that it doesn’t matter how many lovely, wonderful qualities they possess, they’ve clouded their own reflection beyond repair.
You might be at either end of the spectrum, but the reality for most of us is somewhere in between. You might think you’re the bees knees, or you might have rock-bottom self-esteem, but truth is you’re actually probably somewhere in the middle. We’re all drama queens at heart and like to think we’re only ever one extreme or the other, but I’ve decided now is the time to make myself face up to the cold, hard truth.
And this is it: You’re alright.
That’s it. I might not be some spectacular, all-singing, all-dancing superstar. I might not be totally happy with everything I see when I look in the mirror. I might still be stumbling around at the bottom of the career ladder without really knowing which rung to start climbing. I might not have much money, or the most exciting social life, or own my flat, or have millions of blog views. But it’s time I got over myself, because I really don’t have it all that bad.
I’m healthy. When I look in the mirror, yes, I moan, but I know it’s just superficial shit. I’m lucky enough to just look “normal”. Some people wake up every day wishing they looked “normal”. It’s a privilege and certainly not to be sniffed at.
Okay, my career is still something of a question mark but, with my generation, I know I’m sure as hell not alone there! I managed to escape from a job I hated last year, which was a big, big step. And at least I have a job! I should be counting my lucky stars for that.
I’m a bit skint, but I’m hardly living in poverty.
I’ve got lovely friends and family, and with that lot there’s definitely enough going on to keep me busy!
I don’t own my home, but at least I’m paying rent to a landlord and not my parents – independence is invaluable to me.
And, damn it, I’m proud of the content I create. I have faith that my blog will be good enough to eventually bring in the views on its own merit, without having to create a fake Instagram life for fake followers.
I’d be lying if I said I was going to wake up every morning with some newfound confidence and live out every day totally and wholly loving myself. It’s just not realistic. But whenever I’m feeling low or having doubts, I’ll repeat the wise words of Eleanor Shellstrop. Honey, pobody’s nerfect. You’re alright, and that is alright.