What do you see when you look in the mirror? I would focus on every imperfection I could find. The little things. Break outs on my face, slight stretch marks on my hips, little pudge in my stomach from previous surgeries, scars. 11 scars. I wasn’t looking at the big picture. The healthy me that at one point had weighed 87lbs. The 10 surgeries that I endured to kill a disease that was growing on the inside. Weighing down my organs. The pain it caused on some days was more than I could live with. The tattoos that remind me of the pain I’ve taken on. And me. Beautiful me. How on earth have I played this hand I was dealt 31 years ago. Every struggle is a new card. A weight I will carry. A weight that makes me stronger. Braver.
Written on my bathroom mirror for me to read every day. Every time I see my reflection.