I am an introvert. I don’t like confronting people. I don’t like dealing with bad things. I don’t like myself or even the things that I do (not even my books) a large chunk of the time. I second guess everything and generally just think that all is death and darkness and despair.
For months I’ve had a lot of indescribably massive drama going on at work. A few days ago I had a dream about all the ways I’m failing at marketing my book. And just last night I stood up to a bullying family member for the first time in my entire life.
Then, thinking about everything today, something inside me snapped. It was like a glow stick breaking. And now I’m going to share something deeply personal with you:
I may be fat. My chin might be too pointy and my eyes too big and my hair too frizzy. Maybe I talk too much, and I dropped out of graduate school. But I am loyal. And I am well read. And I am a great cook. I co-run a successful business. I wrote a book. I am following my dreams. And I am as motherfucking radiant as the goddamn sun. Ain’t nobody gonna put me down or make me feel like less than I’m worth. Not even me.