I’ve finally come to the conclusion that my misery has nothing to do with the people around me and everything to do with the monsters inside me.
i go to university that costs fucking 60k a year for tuition and i am taking all these bullshit classes like financial reporting systems and intro to business finance and communications strategy
but why has no one, in all my years of being a student, ever bothered to teach me the art of self-esteem, the science of loving myself, the motherfucking skill sets needed to be happy with what i have and who i am. how about learning that i will never be on the cover of a magazine, but that’s okay because i may not be cover-worthy but that doesn’t mean i’m not worthy in any way? why doesn’t anyone teach me that i don’t need to be beautiful to be heard, because my thoughts are louder than something as shallow as skin deep appearances? like what’s the point of knowing how to do derivatives or how to construct the lewis structure of a molecule if i can’t even look at the structure of my own body in the mirror and be satisfied with what i see staring back at me?