I woke up looking like a family of rats live in my awkwardly two-toned hair.

I woke up with breath that would make a goat take two steps back.

I woke up cranky and stubborn.

I took a shower, put on my clothes and black eyeliner and marched through the hallways of  my high school like I’d never had a fear in my life.

Every morning when I wake up, my demons wake up with me.

My insecurities and anger follow me through the hallways.

But I keep walking.

I keep smiling

I keep living out loud.

I refuse to be silenced by my own demons.

They remind me of the scars covering my arms and legs.

I tell them my scars tell my story.

They try to tell me that I’m too skinny, that I should have curves.

I tell them I like my body the way it is.

They try to tell me no one will ever love me.

I tell them that I love myself and that’s important.

I have flaws of course, I have many flaws.

But if I didn’t, think of how boring I would be.

None of us are flawless, but our flaws make us who we are.

And why on earth would you want to be anyone else?