This is the beginning of your story. Memories are bizarre. It doesn’t work like we want it to be. There’s always a tension between the possibilities and regrets. I believe in beginnings and endings. I remember moments in the middle. Everything has its finale. I used to be certain in this matter, but this time I am not. Beginnings are endless, as you look back to your struggles of desperation. There are days that identify your tale beyond your life. Like the day you were lost.

The night is dark and full of anxiety enclosed in much pretension. You looked up in the sky and see nothing but obscurity similar to what you see in the mirror day by day. You had your head tilted up to the moon for as long as you can remember. Stargaze to have a little perspective searching, only to find out that the stars seem to get away just like the joy you used to see from Christmas lights.

“You get up every morning asking the same damn question. But you still continue your day normally. Because you know the answer. You don’t want to end the suffering. You don’t love yourself that much. So you let yourself struggle everyday. You have a 5-minute workout not because of a healthy lifestyle. You do it because you don’t like what you see in the mirror. In the mirror, you see a girl with bloodshot eyes and chapped lips. You’ll have this nude lipstick that makes you look sick. But you don’t care because you probably are and that is what you see in magazines. You’ll try hundred of dresses before you decided on that black mini dress and ankle boots. You can never go wrong with those. But one quick look tells you otherwise. Everything is wrong. From your damaged dyed hair to those worn out ankle boots.

Your day consists of fake smiles, rehearsed words, and pretending you give a fuck. It’s hard to see humanity in others when you can’t even find it in yourself. But your best friend is functionality. You act like you are always okay. People might even look up to you. Everyone thinks you got it all figure out. People will compliment your achievements. Admire how good you are at living. But you hate yourself more for lying to them. Because you know that you are not. And you can’t tell people all of this so you’ll just smile and say thank you.” – CMGC Open Letter to People with Self-Hatred
You would blame love for all this terrible happening, but you’d be fooling yourself once more, because you, and you alone did it to yourself. You are in this situation because you are a coward and reckless. But you don’t loath love, you just don’t value yourself so much thinking you don’t deserve to feel something so precious.

One day, you woke up and no longer want to continue the suffering. You need to find ways to let go of your past negative experiences and discover a renewed faith that life could be beautiful and rewarding. Accepting that fact is the first step towards finding new value in enduring life ahead. Acknowledging that you were a broken puzzle that could be slowly put together is one way to start. When I did that, I finally did find the courage to move on.

Time has its advantages, and one is the assurance none of our struggle will be forever. Time heals, while memories last. You know what surprised me the most? It wasn’t the feeling of victory. It was the strangest feeling of madness. Thinking you have your choices and endless beginnings to start with makes it more exciting to live. You can fall and linger, but you can always choose to get up and fight. Everyone deserves a chance to live and make the most of it. Despite knowing the journey and where it leads, you must embrace it and willingly welcome every moment of it. So, this is where your story begins. The day you were broken.



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