One of the hardest parts of learning how to love myself has been learning how to love my looks. Well, more specifically my face. I don't see what a lot of other people see, which is Danielle.
Looking at myself, I see my father. That for me will always remain a challenge to my self love. Somedays it's literally the face of someone who hated me staring back in the mirror. A version of his nose, just slightly smaller, but definitely his eyes. It's always his eyes.
It's hard to reconcile.
There was a time where I ran so hard and so fast from any aspect of myself that made me like him, I just became another version of him. Maybe it was the childhood truama surfacing, the way it does for a lot of us in our early adulthood. Escaping the supression, held in place by being better educated and more worldly (thanks internet). Or, maybe, it's simply genetics.
Still, I see him looking back at me now and then. It's haunting in a way.
Somedays are better than other. The last few years have been filled with more good days than bad.
I will never see what others see when they look at me, but I think maybe thats the struggle for all of us. It's not like I dont have days where I think I look okay or cute, I do.
Somedays are great, others are good, and some are just bad.
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