Tumblr Repost

I look at myself, and I see so many flaws and imperfections. I see the waves in my hair that can never curl, along with the long length of my lashes that do not naturally flip upwards. I see the birthmarks on my cheeks, The uneven size of my lips. The horrible vision of my eyes that need large frames of glasses to see. I also see the palm of my tiny hand holding a pencil, and the only ‘perfect’ thing I can say about this picture IS that pencil. But then I start to think that, I love the waves in my hair because naturally, they DON’T curl. And then I see the length of my lashes and I think about all of the people who told me they wish they had that amount, and I love those too. I see the birthmarks on my cheeks (there are five of them, trust me) and I love them too, because they are a reminder that I was born and that I shouldn’t waste my life wishing I never was. I see the uneven size of my lips, and I love those too, because even though they look a little funny, they also look great in lip gloss. And I see my eyes that are as blind as can be that they need glasses to see, and I love those too, because I remember picking out those frames with mom at the store, and how many people told me they liked them. And finally I see my teeny-tiny hand that resembles a five-year old, and I love it too, because in that teeny-tiny hand is a pencil that I use to write, and writing is what I love the most. I still see the imperfections, but I can’t believe that I spent all that time not seeing everything that inevitably makes me…me.