I’m tired of feeling shame. Shame for who I feel I am. Shame for what I want. Shame for how I act and react. I’m not sure where this belief began. Where I learned to silence myself, to make myself smaller. But I want to rid myself of it.

I love the softer sides of myself. I love that I write poetry. I love that I journal. I love that I’m introspective and a deep thinker and feeler. I (mostly) love that I can see all sides to a situation. I love my empathy. I love that any time I see a community notebook at the beach or in a local coffee shop I’ll write in it. I love how I choose to love. I love that I love to read. I love that I love romance and fantasy. I love that I embrace reading as I walk somewhere. I love that I sing in the car any chance I get. I love that I take chances when I can. I love that I rarely let fear stop me from doing what I want to do. I love that I’ve been becoming who I was always meant to be and honestly who I always was. I love how sentimental I am. I love that I’m a hopeless romantic and want a partnership no matter how stubbornly independent I get. I love that I never give up hope even when I’m so close to losing all the hope I can muster. I love how hard working, passionate, determined, driven, independent, and kind I am. I love my growth and willingness to change. I love how I show up for others.

This is one of the more romantic and self love entries I’ve written. And I’m fighting every habit that is telling me this all sounds over the top and quite conceited. But honestly, while I’ve tried to practice this before, I’ve truly been feeling all of this lately. I don’t know how to love these parts of myself outwardly yet. I don’t know how to contend with criticism or judgement from others on these areas. But it starts from within and I’m proud that I’ve made it here today. No matter what doubt will creep in later, I’m proud that I have finally decided to embrace these parts of myself.

I think for too long I have consumed everyone else’s judgements and just joined in on the jokes. It’s a skill to be able to laugh at yourself. But its not a skill if that joke is at your own expense. I think I’ve allowed people to make fun of me more than I ever truly wanted. Because I could anticipate their reactions. That it was just a joke. That it’s not an attack on me personally. It would have been my fault. My problem.

But while feelings aren’t facts, my feelings are also still valid. I’m allowed to express my hurt. I’m allowed to not find something funny or take something personally. It can be my responsibility and it can also be other’s to learn how to love me better. But they can’t know that unless I tell them. “No” is a complete sentence and my feelings are worth being heard and vocalized and loved. This will take a lot of practice. A lot of training my own brain to rewire old habits. But I am worth it. I’m enough. I’m worthy of love.

My therapist told me recently that she believes I do know who I am, I just need to work on being confident in that person. I couldn’t agree more. There once was a time I didn’t know who I was. I was asked “who are you” by a former therapist and I didn’t know how to respond. I had completely lost myself. I hit rock bottom emotionally and had to build myself back up.

And here we are today. Understanding who I am and loving every bit of her. Ok, well almost every bit of her. Now the challenge is to become her in every part of my being and every part of my life. To stop looking for the shame creeping around the corner telling me to be smaller, to take up less space.

I want to fill a room with my energy. I want to exude every part of myself so much that people notice. I want to not flinch when people take notice. I want to be unapologetically loud. I want to stand confidently and claim who I am. This is who I want to be. This is who I’m becoming. This is who I am.