I look at this girl and I see myself. Not in the binding or the duct tape, but in the structur
I look at this girl and I see myself. Not in the binding or the duct tape, but in the structure of her body, the amount of weight she has (although my breasts are smaller). I think she’s beautiful. So, why am I hard on myself in return? Some days, I feel like performing a sorority hazing ritual on myself and circling all my flaws in permanent marker. It’s easy to accept beauty in others, and so much more of a struggle to accept ourselves for who we are. yesdaddy: she’s just being dramatic ;) -- source link
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