I did not think I was special.
For years, I struggled to be comfortable on my own skin, with my own thoughts.
I was taught you are supposed to be grateful for life, and I am. I am positive and I am happy. I have always been.
But there have been times when I was not okay. And I was not able to speak up about those feelings, those struggles.
I thought that, because I had everything in life, I had no right to be sad.
Girl, was I wrong.
2017 has been the year. I hit rock bottom and I learned that I had to build myself again. I needed to understand I was, indeed, special. And I had the right to be sad. Because we all do.
If I was going to be publicly demanding from society, from men, to treat me with respect and let me be free, I had to treat myself that same way.
I started reading. And writing. And I happened to join Women’s Republic.
I realized most of my struggles were coming from a much deeper place than just myself. That very many women shared those same thoughts, feelings and difficulties.
I realized I knew a lot but there was a whole lot more that I ignored. Still, my perspective was valuable. Furthermore, people even found what I wrote interesting, useful, funny at times.
I healed.
I realized most of my struggles were coming from a much deeper place than just myself. That very many women shared those same thoughts, feelings and difficulties.
I broke up with old habits that were taking up a space of my life that did not deserve to be taken by them.
I stood up for myself.
I stopped criticizing other women for doing exactly as they pleased.
I became friends with people I never thought I would.
I wrote.
I danced.
I felt free.
And all of that, girls, because of my very own personal love story with feminism.
2017 was my year for self-love, self-care, self-comprehension.
Let 2018 be yours, sister.
