“Don’t tell me I’m beautiful.
A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smiles. Tell me that my voice is sweeter than strawberries. Remind me that my hands have helped flowers grow, painted the ocean, and captured the sky in my phone. Assure me that with a mind like mine, I can change the world.
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful.
I don’t really care if it’s true. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that beauty goes through and through.
Don’t tell me I’m beautiful.
I’ve felt the word splatter against me enough for a lifetime. I am better than the “beautiful” that slips from your lips.
There are parts of me you have never seen. I am outer space, infinite in your search. I am not simply “beautiful.” I’m a fucking masterpiece.”
—unknown
