I’ve kept a journal since I was 9 years old. Within the last year I've allowed myself to indulge in notebook after notebook of my old thoughts and stories.  This weekend as I unpacked my words, I took some time to reflect on what I'd written. Year after year it was mostly nonsense about boys and being popular. Thoughts so shallow that you’d rather not remember they ever existed. In fact, I’d completely forgotten. Along with those thoughts was another theme that ran throughout… Total and utter disgust for myself. I read a journal entry that I wrote when I was NINE YEARS OLD talking about how I needed to start a fat gram diet! A 9 year old girl shouldn’t even know what a fat gram diet is. She should be concerned with playing outside and learning to write in cursive. She should feel like one day she will marry a prince or she will slay dragons herself. Being at a place in my life where my concern for ‘hotness’ has dwindled and my focus has switched to being someone who lives a full life. I can’t help but ache for my younger self. The girl who never felt noticed. The one who knew deep down that she couldn’t measure up. That if she let herself, for even a second, believe she was worth something, that she’d be exposed as an impostor. If I could tell that little girl anything it would be to treat yourself with kindness. That you’re beautiful as you are. But, that beauty doesn’t make you a person of worth. That, no matter how ‘hot’ you are, or how graceful, what creates a gravity around you is your value for others. If you strive to show love, then you will be loved. If you believe the world around you is beautiful, than you will be as well. That life is more than our skin and bones. It’s breathed in and out. It’s held in our arms and it’s found in the unexpected places. You can’t control another’s perception of you. But, you can control the way you perceive yourself and the way you walk into this life. Day by day by day.