I’ve searched all places
for the spot where I'd be loved.

I’ve learned from a young age
the formula for love⏤
approval for love
love for permission
permission for worth.

So I searched⏤
in echoes, in hands,
in faces not my own.

But in those
I never truly found
happiness and peace.

When I stared at the mirror
all I saw was reasons not to be loved.
Thus, I started⏤

Painting over my skin with borrowed shades,
erasing the traces they wouldn’t love.
Folding my smile like a crumpled page,
because of its uneven frame.

But even then I felt⏤
I am still not enough.
I have to be more.
I have to be not me.

I changed how I looked,
and chased perfection,
even killed parts of myself just to fit in.

Until one day, I couldn’t recognize my own reflection.

I chased happiness
when I shouldn’t have.

No matter how much I changed,
love never stayed.
No matter how much I filled,
I was still empty.

I wore names that weren’t mine,
just to be called.
And when I met my own reflection,
a stranger stared back.

I searched for something familiar⏤
A trace of the girl I once was, the girl I had buried.
At first, I looked away, unready to face her.

Then, a quiet thought⏤
What if she was worth knowing?

That was when I realized,
I had to learn to love myself,
to accept my flaws,
to see beauty in my own reflection,
to be proud of my name.

But...
I had spent years unlearning myself,
how could I learn to love her overnight?

For a moment, my hands clenched⏤
as if rejecting the thought.
But then, I exhaled, and in that breath,
I felt the weight of years I had carried.

And so,
I decided to unlearn
the way I was taught to love.

Even if it takes time.

This body is mine⏤
not for fixing,
not for hiding,
but for loving.

I had always searched for love
in every place
but my own⏤
Maybe, just maybe,
I had never really been lost.