No Room for Insecurity

I’ve met insecurity. 

And she isn’t pleasant. 

She’s heartless. 

Uncompassionate, 

and so very cold. 

She mocks me, and makes my heart wrenching, tear jerking, pain splitting feelings feel silly. 

She fills spaces of my soft heart with hard untrusting thoughts. 

She lies to me. 

She tells me I’m incompatible with women on the screens and images that have taken over the hearts of men. 

She calls ugly beautiful, and beautiful unworthy. 

She thinks she has won. 

But she hasn’t.

I am stronger. 

I am true,

and I am real. 

I find beauty in the parts that are mine to claim. 

I look hard in the mirror, 

in the center of my own eyes.

I acknowledge that there is a deepness in who I am and what I’ve seen. 

No one can look through these eyes of mine. 

No one can see things in the exact form that I have seen.

No one can live this life that I’ve been given. 

I find beauty in that truth. 

This makes me content, but empowered.

Steady, but moved.

Insecurity was not meant for me.

It has no home inside of me.

I have met her, but I do not choose her. 

This power rests with me.  

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