𝗖omparing — others to others , ourselves to others— even if it's destructive , we've sworn to master this art. Drenching ourselves in wrong colors then writing it down as our true identities

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 ?

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A stumble. It starts with a stumble , a step in a direction you know exactly where it leads for you've been driven there more than you can count. A dark thought , like a flower blooming from the young and now ...now thorny and it bites. Scars the hand which planted it.

𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺—

And like a loose thread awaiting its pluck , all gets unravelled. Doubts , self-hatred and despair. It's a road I've grown to know its pumps so well. More familiar with its downs more than I'd like.

It drives you straight to the gates of hell. No questions needed , just a whisper down your spine that grows from barely heard to deafening

Wishing I could be like her. 𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 , 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳—

God! You stupid naïve girl you're not her. Just stop.

Your eyes , blind to all you have. Why are you looking at her? You've got your uniqueness here within.

𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤 ?

Your ears , deaf. Trained your soul to hear only doubts about yourself.

You're not her. You've never been.

Grown , fed with destructive compares and tied to ifs.

You're not her. And you don't want to be.

Comparing. 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 , 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 , 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.

You're not their words. Not a stolen identity to mimic. No, you're not.

So next time they scar your heart with only if , turn your back. Run my dear , quick with the truth you've always known but buried in misleads ;

You've got it in you , for you're different. You've always been. ⠀