The following poem is one I wrote on December 13, 2022. It reflects my battle with self-hatred and desire to understand all facets of who I am. May it encourage you to explore the depths of your complexities and let it enrich (rather than limit) your self-compassion and gratitude.

I saw a girl like me today.
She walked like me,
Talked like me,
Even cried like me.

But she was not me.
She wasn't me
Because she wouldn't stop crying--
Uttering guttural sobs that punctured my breath.
She screamed when the lights when out.
Yet she shoved her palms over her eyes
When darkness rescinded.

She wasn't me because
She was afraid to lift her gaze,
To sing a song,
To brazenly wipe her pitiful, blotchy face and

God in Heaven,
Why couldn't she just smile?!

What is wrong with her?
Doesn't she see me? Care about me? Notice me?
I hate this girl.
She won't listen to me.
She is rude to me.
Her sole focus is on her freakish self.
Won't she at least say, "hi"?

I stare at the floor.
Nauseas gridlock hits my stomach.
Anxiety. Sadness. Fear.
Why doesn't she notice me?!

I begin to cry, softly at first
With a taste of pine-meets-flame
I blaze with shame and sadness.
It doesn't stop.
Why can't I stop?

I barely hear a third person as footsteps approach.
She is far off still,
So I whip my head up and down before she finds my squalor

It's a girl, like me.
She walks like me,
Talks like me,
and seems: just like me.

But I'm not like her
And I don't like her

This girl has dry eyes and she's smiling,
Mountain-meets-sky joy is radiating from her face,
And she's smiling.

God in heaven,
Why is she smiling?!


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