I Should Look Like Jennifer

It's okay to think you're beautiful.
It's okay
It's okay
It's okay
Breathe.

I don't think I'm more beautiful than you or her,
But I'm beautiful.

Everything says to hate me.
Everything says he's out of my league,
and that I need some new mascara,
and that I should look like Jennifer,
and that I should talk to more people,
and that I should tell funnier jokes,
and that I should make my eyes look bigger,
and that I should only eat lettuce and Kale.

I'm supposed to loathe myself.
I'm supposed to despise my lack of eyelashes,
and my long nose,
and and my size 10 waist.
But I don't.

Because my eyelashes still catch my sweat,
and my nose lets me smell the roses,
And my size 10 waist doesn't weigh me down.

I have this able body,
and I can use it to dance and run and laugh,
which is a gift that not everybody has.

And I'm supposed to hate that?

I'm not supposed to find beauty in the way

I can pick up my baby brother and twirl him around
and laugh at the way his nose crinkles when he laughs?

Or that I can literally do anything I set my mind to?

Or that I can use my arms to hug my Dad when
he finally gets home every Thursday?

Or that I can use my mouth to eat a really
good chocolate cupcake?

Or that I can use my brain to help my little sister
with her math homework?

Or that I can use my words to say
whatever I think or feel?

Or that I can use my heart to love you?

And maybe I'm not a supermodel.
But who even cares?
God thinks I'm beautiful.
I think I'm pretty.
That's enough to be happy.
I like to get dressed up,
and I like my smile and how happy I look when it's genuine,
and I like the flecks of gold that swim around my eyes,
and I like my pink skin color,
and I like that I can be content by myself,
and I like my taste in music,
and I like the way I look when I wake up in the morning,
and I like that my hair has a good mix of brown and blonde,
and I like that I like the outdoors,
and I like my nails even when they aren't painted,
and I like being alive.
and I like being in love.
and I like being Abby-esque in any and every sense of the word.

I just like myself.
(I'm sorry if that offends you.)