All these stupid perfect pretty girls with their stupid perfect faces
I hate this. I hate feeling so insecure and so ugly compared to these girls.
It’s like one day I tell myself “no you’re not ugly, you’re decent.” And then I see these girls who look pretty close to flawless, and I fall apart inside.
And I think about everything he tells me…how he thinks I’m the most beautiful girl in the world. He tells me I’m perfect and when he tells me that, I start to believe it. It makes me feel so wonderful.
But I need more than that. I’m sorry, but your words alone can’t heal this heart. I need to believe that God made me beautiful. I’m fearfully and wonderfully made, or so I’m told that’s what I’m supposed to believe.
I love you with all my heart, and I will always run to you, but I can’t just run to you anymore.
I need God.