There comes a time when you realize that you're allowed to be happy.
When you're allowed to wear whatever it is
that you've been terrified of wearing.
When you decide to love your curves.
When you hold your head high.
And when you decide to love yourself
instead of battling the reflection.
The other day, I wore a high waist maxi skirt that I absolutely love.
The thing is, I never wore it because of my hips.
I actually hated my hips for so long, that I let something sit in my closet for around two years with the tags on them because I was afraid of what people were going to think about it.
I decided to say fuck it, rip the tags off, and wear it.
And it may sound stupid to you,
but I felt a weight come off my shoulders like no other.
I felt pretty.
I didn't really care what people thought.
I've started to actually really like my hips.
When I was younger, people use to make fun of me for a birth mark I have under my left eye. It's dark, and kind of shaped like Florida. I hated it with a passion and would try to scrub it off of my face. Even in junior high, I would pile concealer over it and not let people see it.
Then my dad said to me, "that's how I knew you were mine. It's what makes you different than anyone else." I knew then that I had to embrace my Floridian style face stain.
The hips were a huge step, no pun intended, in a direction that I've been trying to find for a very long time.
Goodnight,
xo
k.
