I have been told that to be loved,
I must be:
I hear these words inside my head.
I hear these words from people who look
And only see my imperfections,
The things that make me different from their idea of beauty.
The things that they say are unlovable.
These are the people who I used to know.
I used to be afraid of those words.
I tried so hard to be
Following the words that I heard people say,
‘do this,’ or ‘don’t do that’,
Even though following that guidance
Always left me feeling so much worse.
Spiraling on the inside, I found myself
With scars on my wrists
And making mistakes that I never would have
If I had followed what my heart said.
Finally, a friend made me hear,
These scars are from my battles.
They add to your beauty,
They don’t always mean you are
You can make mistakes.
Because these scars, these hurts,
These are what make you strong.
These are what make you who you are.
And though that was hard to hear,
I quickly learned to love
The parts of me that were
I became proud of my strength,
The power behind the pain I’d pushed through.
Now I am stronger for it.
A beacon of light for others I meet.
Because now I can tell others with scars
That those are from the battles
That they have won.