One day, I hope I’ll wholeheartedly believe that you can be imperfect and be loved. That you can make mistakes and be loved, like people say you can…I want to truly believe it and not believe all the other shit I do.
This is when the difference between telling yourself you can be loved, and believing you can, is all the difference.
One day I hope I’ll see that all that I’m doing, is good and healthy and beautiful and resourceful and it’s me coping. It’s not me destructing, falling apart, falling off the wagon even more.
One day I hope that I’ll realise that all this stuff is just my inner critic. Worst case scenarios. Fears. Disasters. Catastrophes haunting my inner space. Not truth.
One day I hope I’ll wholeheartedly believe, that I am enough.