Self esteem... Loving yourself. What is that like. What is it to have such assurance. Or to accept those imperfections.

To leave the illusion that approval from others is perfection. That perfection is peace and serenity. To forego the little trinkets that present no reflection of mistakes. To halt writing in granite and leave all scars and scratches in ink. Little or none. Average to some.

Surrounded by infinite fragments of "What ifs." Each piece more tangible than the last. All melted and moulded and frozen, to fashion a mirage of pleasing smiles and comprehensible tears. Sour cavities hidden behind each curved lip. Barren glands where sparkling lakes once dwelled.

But once again... What is it to love yourself?

What is it to find internal happiness?Looking pass wealth and succession to find diamonds beneath rock? Or to discover that it is rocks beneath diamond?

I do not know. In all fairness, who does know at first? I can remember thousands of words and answers to further write and each pictured syllable may be more generic than the last. But, mundanity can be tiresome. Believe me. Thus, I will not waste our time.

So, dear reader, I can only wish us the best and should I fall upon the beautiful words and answers to my question, my pen will not hesitate to dance once again. For now good luck! For now... Perhaps the first step is to take the risk and safely follow your heart.



© S. N