I HATE MYSELF.

Friends tell me I’m somewhat of a mirror. I have the ability to show people what they couldn’t otherwise see in themselves. It’s a burdensome gift, reserved for those who surrender the fantasy and the newness of “getting to know” someone. I tend to know all I need to know about a person within the first few moments of interaction. So, the insecurities or intentions that a person has never sneak up on me in a relationship.

The perks: I have a small circle of sincere people around me, people who uplift and better me. I know that those I love truly love me too.

The pain: Most people comfortably lie to my face. Insecure people pretend to be confident. Lonely people pretend to be busy and socially fulfilled. AND women…(Sigh)...pretend to love themselves.

I meet new people every day. Every introduction is the same. Names are exchanged and accompanied by a moist handshake or an awkward, ill-timed hug. (I hate introductions). No one really knows what to say or how long to linger. It’s just a social mess, especially among women. Women don’t know whether to be warm or weary, kind or caddy. It’s quite sad to watch. Lately, I find myself saddened amidst most introductions because when I make eye contact with women…I see inner-disgust and self-hatred.

Sure, on the surface, there is a gorgeous and fashionable lioness approaching me with a huge smile and a big designer bag neatly sashaying as she walks. I can hear men humming “Miss Independent” as a theme song when modern divas move through a crowd, seemingly untouchable. (It’s just too bad confidence isn’t sold at a Chanel counter).

Let’s be real about a few things…

1) Eye contact is rare for a reason in modern society. Why? The eyes never lie and that’s why people avoid each other and try to fall in love via text messaging. I make a point of zooming in and scanning the soul when I’m introduced to someone.

2) The same lips that provide me with a rap sheet of accomplishments, degrees, to-dos, and desires…belong to women who are silently yearning for some form of affirmation or completion.

I HATE MYSELF is the new fragrance for the females in my generation, spritzed on every time we lay with men who don’t love us…or gossip about women we ‘don’t like’ because of minuscule differences or disagreements…or discourage the dreams of others due to our own failures.

It’s ugly. But the truth isn’t pretty. It’s ironic that most women literally hate what they see in the mirror. Mirrors can’t lie. No matter how much makeup is applied or how many designer rags adorn your body, self-hatred will seep thru and own you. Unless you do what victorious women do…

Love what’s beautiful about you and learn to adore the blemishes too. Everything about you is essential. Every chapter of your story is vital. Someone will benefit from the testimony behind your bruises and scars one day. But first you have to face the mirror, stop pretending you have it all together…and heal.

I’m just being real.