I am not my thoughts.

My Insecurity:
I overthink everything.
And i do it all the time.
From thinking i said, or did something wrong all the time.
I am always thinking i am not good enough.
That i am worthless.
I am always down-grading myself.
My thoughts rule me.
From years of people calling me fat, ugly, not good enough.
I now believe those words.
I always think those thoughts.
But i want to rise above them.
To be a stronger, healthier teenage girl.
I want to be happy.
I am ready to be happy.







Share your's:


I am not my ___.
(insert insecurity.)








This project is about sharing peoples insecurities without actually showing them.
Showing people that behind societies lies, everyone is human.
And i wanted to do something similar.
And as i researched this project, i became very interested with the pictures.
I urge you to check out the website and the pictures.

I thought what we had was gold,
was okay because you told me you loved me,
and i believed you.

I had the feels,
when you came home late at night,
with the same excuses.

You had a business trip to Tennessee,
you sent me pictures of the hotel rooms view,
you told me again you loved me and missed me.

Your intention was to keep it a secret,
i started to realise things didn't fit,
your lies didn't fit together.

Now we lay next to each other at night,
you don't say it anymore,
i don't care anymore.

I should have hang up the phone,
and let us continue being friends,
but you used your snake charms on me.

I thought what we had was gold,
was okay because you told me you loved me,
ad i believed you.

I loved spending time with you,
but it started to get harder,
i was over-thinking,
how much
i loved
you.

I started to get really nervous around you,
i loved holding your hand,
holding you in my arms,
kissing you.

I couldn't handle it,
all this love.

i was afraid i would messed us up,
that i would loose you,
and i was scared.

i am sorry.

i talk about her,
because it hurts to look at you,
and know how much i love you.

I know how much you hurt.

i am sorry.

and every time i am with her,
i think about you,
i can't help it.

i wish it was you.

and i am sorry i was scared.

i didn't want to **** anything up.

but i guess i have already done that.

i have lost you.

and i want you.

need you.

and you were enough.

your all i need.

i am soo ******* sorry.

and i know that you won't want me back.

i have lost you,
and you have given up.

You talk about her,
all the time,
her smile,
her eyes,
her.

And now,
a week later,
you two are dating.

You stay up late with her,
the way we used to,
you whisper,
hold hands,
smile.

do you miss what we had?

wasn't i enough?

i wish i was enough.

i thought i was enough.

but you left me for her,
she isn't a ****,
or a *****,
she is
nice.

But i wish you stayed,
that you wanted me,
that you needed me,
that what we had,
was enough
for you.

But it wasn't.
and i am sorry.

I loved you,
incorrect.

i love you.

and you love her.

Its soo ******* hard to say,
Soo ******* hard to think about it.

But I can’t help but think about it.

I have too.

But it makes me sick.

The details, my stomach does flips.

I need to do this, I have to do this.

If I don’t, I will looose everything.

My mouth is dry from overthinking her smile.

My face are wet from remembering her laugh.

My hands are sweaty from remembering her touch.

I need to do this, I got to.

My lungs feel like they are going to burst.

I think my heart is missing beats.

That’s not normal.

Breathe.

In
And
Out.

In
And
Out.


Its soo ******* hard to say,
Soo ******* hard to think about it.

But I can’t help but think about it.

I
have too.

Because I love her.

my reflection,
stares back at me,
with all my insecurities,
flying around
behind me.

my reflection,
unmoving,
still and lifeless,
makes me
conscience.

my reflection,
at age 5,
was happy and enthusiastic,
dressed in bright colours
and loved to smile.

my reflection,
at age 9,
was insecure and semi,
unhappy
with the changes going on.

my reflection,
at age 12,
was unhappy and hated life,
hated herself
because of how fat she was.

my reflection,
at age 15,
became a little happier,
but only a little
because she was still fat.

my reflection,
at age 16,
kind of accepts herself,
only kind of
because she will always be fat.

my reflection,
at age 16,
isn't perfect,
not for society
and not for anyone.

my reflection,
at age 16,
will never be enough,
for you,
or for anyone.