I am Courtney. I have hair the color of my mothers and skin the color of my fathers. I have the Irish green eyes of my fathers grandmother and the native nose of my mothers Seminole-Creek father. My hands have written thousands of poems. My face has been scarred by acne, my ears have listened to EVERY cruel comment someone made about it. My lips have been kissed by people I think about every day.
My skin is skewed with stretchmarks and tattoos and scars.
You’re right. I am not pretty. There is so much more to me than a 6 letter word used to summarize beauty.
im so tired of being the only one trying. i wish i could say that ima quit and if you want me in your life you can make it happen for once but im too scared to face the truth that you wont try even after i stop and it wont happen. so here i am looking like an idiot for trying so damn hard to make…
I feel overwhelmingly not good enough.. and its like the more I want this to work the more it falls apart. I dont know what to do or not do, what to say or not say, I feel like im walking on eggshells and everytime one cracks it has the potential to end my life as I know it.