A real conversation about self-esteem, comparison, dating, my body, and becoming the woman I actually want to be.
I’m 32.
And I’m realizing that confidence is not something you magically wake up with because you hit a certain age.
I thought by now I would have myself completely figured out.
The career.
The body.
The relationships.
The confidence.
The money.
The motherhood thing.
The whole “I know exactly who I am” thing.
Girl… 😂
I’m still figuring it out.
And honestly, I think that’s okay.
For a long time, I let other people determine how I felt about myself.
If a man wanted me, I felt beautiful.
If he pulled away, I questioned myself.
If someone complimented me, I felt confident.
If someone criticized me, suddenly I was picking myself apart.
If I gained weight, I felt like I had somehow failed.
If somebody didn’t understand me, I wondered if maybe I was the problem.
And I’m finally getting tired of living like that.
Because why am I giving everybody else the remote control to my self-esteem?
I’m learning to stop needing to be chosen.
This one is hard.
Especially when you’ve experienced people being inconsistent with you.
You start thinking, What can I do differently so they stay?
Be prettier.
Be easier.
Don’t text too much.
Don’t care too much.
Don’t ask too many questions.
Don’t have too many expectations.
Don’t show them you’re attached.
Don’t be too emotional.
Don’t be too independent.
Don’t be too anything.
And eventually you realize you’re performing instead of living.
I don’t want to perform anymore.
I want to be myself.
If someone doesn’t like the real me, that’s information—not an emergency.
I’m also learning to love my body while I’m still working on it.
I can want to lose weight and still love myself.
I can want a flatter stomach and still appreciate the stomach I have today.
I can want toned arms and still stop insulting my arms.
I can have body goals without making my current body my enemy.
That’s a huge mindset shift for me.
Because I’ve spent too much time waiting for the “better version” of myself to finally deserve confidence.
But what if she deserves it now?
What if I don’t have to lose the weight first?
What if I don’t need the perfect outfit first?
What if I don’t need a man first?
What if I don’t need everybody to think I’m beautiful first?
What if I can just decide:
I like me.
Right here.
Right now.
While I’m still growing.
And yes, I still have insecure days.
I’m not going to sit here and pretend I wake up every morning feeling like THAT GIRL.
Some days I look in the mirror and I’m like…
“Okay girl, we’re gonna work on this.” 😂
Some days I compare myself.
Some days I overthink.
Some days I feel behind.
Some days I wonder if I’m doing enough.
But the difference now is that I don’t let one bad thought become my entire identity.
I can have an insecure moment without becoming an insecure woman.
That’s growth.
I’m becoming more protective of my peace.
I’m learning that everybody doesn’t deserve access to me.
Everybody doesn’t deserve an explanation.
Everybody doesn’t deserve a front-row seat to my life.
And everybody definitely doesn’t deserve the version of me that keeps begging to be understood.
I’m learning to let people misunderstand me.
I’m learning to let people leave.
I’m learning to stop chasing people who have already shown me they don’t want to be caught.
I’m learning that losing someone isn’t always a loss.
Sometimes it’s space.
Space for you to hear yourself again.
My new definition of confidence?
It’s not being the prettiest woman in the room.
It’s not getting the most attention.
It’s not having a man.
It’s not having the perfect body.
It’s not having thousands of followers.
It’s not pretending nothing bothers me.
Confidence is being able to say:
“This is who I am, and I’m still becoming.”
I’m allowed to be soft.
I’m allowed to be ambitious.
I’m allowed to be emotional.
I’m allowed to be independent.
I’m allowed to love deeply.
I’m allowed to have standards.
I’m allowed to change.
I’m allowed to outgrow people.
I’m allowed to reinvent myself.
And I’m allowed to be a woman who is still figuring herself out at 32.
Maybe I don’t need to become a completely different woman.
Maybe I just need to stop being so hard on the woman I’ve already become.
So this season?
I’m choosing me.
Not the Instagram version of me.
Not the version men approve of.
Not the version my family expects.
Not the version society says I should be at 32.
Me.
The real me.
The growing me.
The sometimes-insecure-but-still-getting-back-up me.
And honestly?
I’m starting to really like her.
Maybe self-love isn’t becoming obsessed with yourself.
Maybe it’s simply deciding that you aren’t going to abandon yourself anymore.
And baby…
I’m not abandoning me. 🤍
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