Worth Viewing

So I've gotten home and as I lay in bed, fresh out of the shower I've realized how much I avoid looking at my body. I mean I come in naked and throw the blanket over myself. I know that I'm not trying to hide from Danny. He's seen me naked and it doesn't seem to bother him. I literally just don't want to look at myself.

I think its probably been like this since i can remember. Photos of me reveal a girl that is constantly holding purses, pillows, bridesmaids bouquets over her tummy. The insecurities blatantly displayed in a lifetime of photographs. And yet instead of taking the steps to a thinner me, I've hidden my still pregnant looking belly with props. I've taken those tricky bitch Facebook pictures by tilting the camera just so and looking up at it to dissipate that hideous double chin. Putting layer upon layer of filters on photos to clear my skin. All the while knowing that life outside of the hiding and the covering revealed how i looked.

Before Danny, I knew right away that if a boy told me I was pretty that he was just trying to get some easy ass. Because i knew I wasn't pretty. I wasn't even pretty on the inside.
But somewhere along the way I've found an endless inner beauty in my heart. I've dealt with my trauma for the most part to learn to empathize with others. To love others.
Knowing this I've decided to dig under the layer of past snack cakes and cheeseburgers, of broken hearts and abusive ex boyfriends and find an outer beauty. To feel beautiful. To feel like I'm not just trapped in a hideous costume of some fat girl.
I need to feel like I'm worth viewing.
Even if i just feel worth of being viewed by myself.