CW: Rant/vent/temporary emotional expression, not 100% what my logical mind says, etc., but I feel it so I want to write it.

Some day I’ll have made a body which is not only feminine, but also fit and beautiful. It will need dieting, it may need exercise, it may need more drastic measures. Some day people won’t have to make an active effort, or make me a favour, or be in some unexpected rare mood, to find me attractive.

Some day I’ll have gathered enough accomplishments that people have no choice but to be impressed and believe I am interesting and intelligent, so that I’ll be someone people have no choice but to think of as special and worth their efforts.

Some day I’ll have learned enough empathy and style and social skills and energy and discipline and focus that I’ll be able to not hurt people by being sloppy or lazy or by mistake, that I’ll be able to fascinate them so they’ll want to seek me out.

Some day I’ll have gotten wise enough to feel at peace either which way, instead of being volatile and clingy and needy, I won’t seem so desperate any longer, and therefore won’t be as scary and distasteful to others, won’t be a walking warning sign for complex baggage and drama.

I just have to keep making myself slowly, painfully edge closer to some ideal of perfection, and then perhaps I’ll experience the sort of validation that apparently I’d need in order to believe I can have value to others.

This is silly. I am crying again, I’m irrational, I’m messed up, I’m being silly. I fascinate myself, at least. And I’ll just bury myself in efforts of self-improvement, and then maybe some day I won’t feel like this. Hard to stop crying, interesting. I’ll be OK. I have a paper to revise.

Should I hide emotions like these? Nah. It’s just so hard for me sometimes to believe in myself, I’m so inclined to second-guess it when I receive appreciation. It must be tough to deal with, and I keep on crying. Oh well.