We were taking pictures. It was a fun night. But with most fun nights where I was hanging out with friends the anxiety was intense. I look at this picture and I see it. That fraction of a second right before the big smile that says “life is good and I am good”. Except I was rarely ever good during this time of my life.

I thought I had everything but I was stuck in the quicksand of a life that was broken. And I didn’t understand how it was broken.

Maybe it was self love. The lack of it rather.

Self love.

It’s just something I hear other women say. I see them strive for it. Struggle for it. Hurt for it.

And I suppose all the empty I felt was just space waiting for me to understand what it meant to love myself.

I love other people. I’ve always thought that filled me up. But… if it ever did it never stayed. I suppose I felt entitled to love I felt I’d earned. And all that expectation led to disappointment. Over and over again.

I wasn’t ever not enough for them. It was always that I wasn’t enough for me. So maybe… self love is worth looking into.