“I love myself.”


“I love myself.”
That is a lie. 
But, perhaps, if I keep telling myself it, I will begin to believe it. 

I love my tall build. 
I love my untamable hair. 
I love my almond-eyes. 

“I love myself.” 
It’s not entirely true. 

I love my slim waist. 
I love my big smile. 
I love my loud laugh.

“I love myself.” 
I’m not sure. 

I love my smooth thighs. 
I love my slender fingers.
I love my toes. 

“I love myself.” 

I love my flat stomach.
I love my long arms. 
I love my chest.

“I love myself.” 
I like myself. 

I love my lilting voice. 
I love my skinny legs. 
I love my proud stride. 

“I love myself.”
I’m starting to. 

I love my mind. 
I love my body. 
I love my soul. 
“I love myself.”
I love myself. 

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