An Open Letter To My Insecurities

An average millennial on a daily basis is told that they can do better, they can look better, they can work harder. More often than I’d like to admit, I don’t like my own reflection in the mirror, If I could leave it there; I would. As an average millennial I am tired, rather petrified. Petrified of not being pretty enough, successful enough, smart enough, petrified of being left behind, of not being wanted, petrified of simply not being enough. Often people ask me, you don’t seem insecure of anything? judging by the confidence I carry on my sleeve. Perhaps I don’t, but because I carry it well, does not mean that it’s not heavy. I am only now learning to be strong enough to love the world yet be empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worse horrors. As I look onto the world for inspiration and acceptance all I see is the compassion that it lacks, if I were to allow the world and its harsh judgment to affect me, I would struggle to exist. A world that should offer us shelter, offers us a ring to be pitted against each other. Every now and then I find myself and my insecurities engaging in battle, it trying to seep into my bones, I trying so very hard to reason with it, often begging for one more moment of peace. As I toss and turn every night  thinking of ways to be better, I wonder how it must feel to not be afraid of losing things I don’t have, competing with people who aren’t competing with me, fighting a battle that doesn’t exist. The world always hands me my insecurities in a silver platter, but in the end it is my decision to take them home or to leave them there and I am slowly learning, to leave them be. I am slowly unlearning the world and its horrors.




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