Stop. Breathe. Be proud.
I once bought some shorts that were too small for me and hung them on the wall of my room. "I'll wear these when I look good again," I said to me.
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I wore jeans to a soccer game this weekend, because I’m a Floridian who likes a good challenge. While I sat, highly aware of the UVB rays trying to cancer me up, I thought, “I have jeans on, and a hat, and this wicked-cool, purple, team shirt so the sun can’t get me.”
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You know that friend who will walk up and slap you when you need to snap out of it? I have a few. And they are dear to me. They love me in spite of my messy stuff. They put up with me when I make silly faces in pictures.
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