Member-only story
Letter to Self
Please accept me for me.
Taylor,
I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you this, but there is no right time and, honestly, I’m not sure there’s a right way.
You’re mean.
The things you think about me make me question why I get out of bed in the morning. Why even try if that’s what you really think.
I can’t do anything about this physical form. We were born this way.
We’re not getting any taller.
Your skin is doing this changing thing and honestly, I think it’s your fault that it’s happening but we also can’t do anything about that now.
Do you want to be the kind of person who thinks their worth is in their physical form?
I know you don’t.
The things that you say to me don’t reflect the type of person you want to be.
But, since you’re so keen on telling me about how inadequate our physical features are I’m just going to say it: these boobs are the boobs you have.
They are not as high as they once were and, you know what, they’re going to get lower. You’re no spring chicken and these babies are not new.
But, they’re yours which makes them great. Be grateful for where they are instead of hating…
