The Travelling Pages

19 | love me first

01.06.2022

People love for the feel, the experience, the expression, the connection. I want to too. But I want to be loved to love me too. I want to hear it from someone else. Perfect, gorgeous, talented, capable, loveable. I want to be reminded when I forget. For the reason that sometimes, I don't feel enough to do so myself.

When I feel as if my eyes are too pitch black, or my fingers a bit too short, I want someone to kiss my flaws away and tell me he only sees them as diamonds shaped differently– beautifully, so the next time I gaze in the mirror they make me smile a little wider. So I can too, tell him about his handsome long eyelashes and lips that make me drool.

Selfish you can call me, but only once I love myself will I learn to love outside the borders of my own. Because every so often it's terribly hard to twirl to your reflection and not count the faults off your small fingers, especially when you're raised thinking you have ever so many.

For, I couldn't always hear a ton of folks call the crooked teeth of so many worthy of their affection, or a strong and healthy body as flawless as a curvy small one. So there are days when I feel like I don't belong. Days I feel ugly because no one's told me otherwise. Because no one looked me in the eyes to tell me they could gaze at them all day long.

Because there is love. And then there is you and me. And without us, there is no love. So how can we love without loving our own selves first? How must we count diamonds off somebody if we can't accept the jewels for all their shapes and sizes? We can't.

So my sweet, teach me how to braid my hair into stars, I'll teach you how to gloss yours with sugar and honey. Look into my eyes and rest your fingers crisscrossing with mine small ones, touching palms: tell me it fits perfectly, that this was meant to be.

Show me that a part of loving you will be loving me. For that, I will always find a way to do, to reach for your hands so I can fit them flawlessly in mine.