I'm beautiful; not just because I was born this way, but because I strived to make myself this way--in every aspect that I am today.
The first name I was called by other children when I was younger was "Chunky." It grew to be "Clumpsy" which was a combination of the first and clumsy. The list is extensive, so I will only include these first two. They used to shove me, hit me, throw stuff at me, take things from me, break what little I had of school supplies, belongings, and confidence.
I learned to stay close to those of maturity--mainly teachers. I learned to converse and understand much more advanced conversations because it was the only way to defend myself when the staff enforced every student to go outside for recess--even when some of us, the troden, begged and pleaded to be sheilded inside from the brutality that was brought by popularity and status; that addiction bullies build when they see themselves as being better than their prey the more they climb the pile of nobodies they create by stepping on them.
The bullies weren't just at school, either. There are situations in this world that are unavoidable--especially when your family becomes homeless and has to strive to be in whatever living accomodies they can find. A woman--my mother's cousin--who, to this day claims that she never did me wrong, used to call me worthless, disgusting, unwanted, dejected, and did so many things to reinforce it--such as pawn my belongings and sentimental possessions for gambling money while leaving me to watch over my little sister and her mother with a deteriorating mind while she went to gamble, blame and punish me for things she did wrong to others or around the home, explain to me how my family hated me before convincing them that I hated them, and always blamed me of stealing from her whenever she misplaced things. She even blamed me for my mother's death--even after she time and time again embodied the peer pressure that kept her smoking whenever she tried to quit.
I lost my mother when I was sixteen--just when I was starting to bloom into my femininities. I strove to find the beauty in myself my entire life--through friends, horrific relationships, knowledge, and studies. Little did I know that one of the people I grew to care about, when I was only eleven years old, would be the person to look at me in my worst hour, take my hand, and revive me with a love he had been holding onto--that is still forever growing--for me for twelve years.
He has continued to love me even though I didn't.
No matter how many times I have shattered, and how little those pieces have broken into, he has picked up every one and held me back together.
Even though my confidence had been long gone--a crucial piece of me amputated and replaced with a fake, artificial limb--he somehow made it regenerate from his own and mold it to me; he made me anew.
He led me by example--by improving himself.
Jacob Cody LeJuine chose me at my worst and stayed by my side even though at a time he had accepted that we'd probably never be together romantically. When I finally revived enough from the gray life I thought was supposed to be what I deserved through all of my burdens, I did not just choose him--but I chose be a better me.
Jacob Cody LeJuine chose me at my worst--now he's the most important reason why I strive to always be at my best.
I have overcome pain, suffering, and agony, and found the balance to my beauty: and it is my immeasurable love for him.
I'm beautiful; not just because I was born this way, but because I strived to make myself this way--in every aspect that I am today. So are you.
