What I see.

When I look in the mirror I see a girl.
I see an overweight pale girl.
I see a girl with clown makeup and bright colored hair.
I see stretch marks and acne.
I see too small eyes and even smaller teeth.
I see pale and chapped lips.
I see a big nose.
I see an ugly butt chin.
I see a double chin.
I see big boobs.
I see broad shoulders.
I see small hands with short fingers.
I see a big stomach.
I see scars on my arms.
I see scars on my thick thighs.
I see scars on my legs.
I see big feet and even bigger toes.
I see me.
Or at least I see what I've made myself out to be.
I see what society has said isn't acceptable, and I've used that as a guideline for what I think I see in myself.
I see what the mirror wants me to see.
I see the person I try so hard not to be.
I see the version of me that I think I've become.

My insecurities cripple me every day, and I'm finally deciding to take a stand and not let them get the best of me anymore. I may not be able to erase the image of myself that I've had for so many years, but I can come to terms with it and learn to accept it. I don't have to be insecure about what I see, because that's not what other people see.