This is a breakup. I’m talking to you, Guilt.

I’m breaking up with you.

I’ve had it up to here with you, Guilt. You talk down to me. You make me feel like I don’t deserve to take care of myself. And you are mean. You aren’t just mean, you are cruel.

You don’t like the way I look no matter how hard I try. And when I try hard, I stand in the mirror and you tell me it’s not enough. Or worse, that I don’t deserve this time and it would be better to give this selfish time to someone else. Like I don’t deserve my own effort.

You tell me things about myself even my worst boyfriend didn’t have the balls to say out loud.

I’ve cared about some guys in my life. You keep telling me he wouldn’t have chosen someone else if I wasn’t fat, ugly or old. Then turn around and tell me I’ll let people down I care about if I say yes to fixing fat, old and ugly and say no to people i love.

You’re unreasonable. You’re illogical. You play mind games.

You talk me out of trips I still think about a year later.

I hide parts of myself because of you. Because you whisper every chance you get that I’ll be alone forever if I show anyone.

You keep me from food I wanted to try. It would NOT have added 5 pounds to my hips. Especially if you’d shut up when I get to the gym and stand in the mirror. I would have gladly worked it off.

I’m tired of trying to drown you out with what I do for other people. I want both. To love other people AND love myself.

This is your eviction notice. Starting Monday I’m going to expose you for the petty little game player you are.

Headed out for some #selfcare today,
Ambyr