I'm not a pretty person. I'm dark-skinned, fat and short. I can count the times I've been complimented as pretty with only the fingers on my right hand. Growing up, I'm not the type to get suitors. Heck, I haven't even experienced how it feels to be courted. All the loves I've had so far are one-sided ones that end up with me getting hurt.
In my twenty seven years of existence in this world, I've only received flowers five times. One was during my undergraduate year, then my graduation, then when I forced Orly and Janelle to give me flowers, then when I forced Mitch to give me flowers, then when one of my students gave me flowers for my birthday. It's not like I'm expecting flowers every now and then. When you get used to not receiving anything, it becomes normal.
I'm not a lovable person. I'm sharp-tongued and sarcastic, sometimes harsh and scary. I'm quick with a comeback, I'm a bully, I'm impatient and noisy. I'm always the least liked out of my friends and always the last one to be invited out.
But in spite of all these imperfections, I still love myself. So much. Because I realized that if I won't love myself... who will? If I won't appreciate myself, who will?
To love one's self... to give one's self flowers instead of waiting for someone else to do it... to compliment one's self... isn't that what's important? Isn't that enough?
For me it is.