Self love struggle.

In a world full of BMWs and fast cars,

I drive a Micra.

In a world of who has the most huaraches,

I own about 5 pairs of name brand.

In a world full of fleeky eyebrows,

I’m makeup-less a lot lately.

In a world of contouring,

I’d rather just complain about how shit my nose is

because that stuff looks so long,

and in between work and gym I’m just tryna find the time to chill and laugh.

This world moves so fast… and I have always been a little slow.


So usually, when I bump into an old face,

I try to hide mine.

Because without all that makeup I tend to shine,

not in the ‘glow up’ way,

more in the overdose vaseline way.

And my hair is a mess often,

I mean the times in between the pictures of new styles and nights out,

I tend to look a little worn out.

And you don’t wanna see old faces glowing,

and your imperfections that you swear you love now are showing…

This self love takes time…

and those moments where you catch me hiding…

know I’m still working on mine.


My mum taught me to save because she knows the struggle,

hence the lack of name brands and my little Micra- which I’ve been told is a granny car.

Well I will still roll down the windows and blast Giggs – you really can’t tell me shit,

When you own an Astra but I’m saving for a mortgage.

I’m saving for my dreams and they are bigger than all of this.


I have to remember life is bigger than this.

Life is bigger than the spot on my face which won’t fucking leave me alone,

or my frizzy hair which behaves some days but takes the piss on most,

or the creases in my nose when I laugh which have me saying ‘eww’ to pictures from my past…

and still today.

Still today I try to hide when actually I am doing fucking fine.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m not.

I’m still working on trying not to hide.

I walk around feeling proud that I’ve made it to no make up days,

but what’s the point if I’m still hiding anyway?


In a world full of BMWs and fast cars,

I am a little slow, but I have grown.

My possessions don’t show it,

but you can’t put a price tag on this soul.


Written in 2017 ©


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s