The Type

Do not spent time wondering if you are the type of woman that men will hurt. If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along. It is hard to stop loving the ocean even after it has left you gasping, salty.

In a recent developmental blog, I wrote:

I tried to find myself in other people. I collected “I love you’s,” smiles, and compliments and slipped them into my empty spaces, hoping that someday, they’d blossom into confidence. Instead, I became even more insecure and dependent, measuring my self-worth by these tokens that people gave me (and deriving worthlessness from the ones that they did not).

This is something that I still struggle with. Too often, I look to other people to tell me, to show me, that I am worth something. That I am beautiful. That I am intelligent. That I am interesting. And too often, these people are boys. Boys that I give my heart to too easily, too quickly, too carelessly. When these boys leave, they take my confidence with them.

Sarah Kay’s poem, “The Type,” reminds me not to look to other people to legitimize my worth. She reminds me that I must look into myself. I determine my worth. I must value myself, and be comfortable with myself, before I can expect to connect with others in the same way.

 Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours. Let the statues crumble. You have always been the place. You are a woman who can build it herself. You were born to build.

Post submitted by JoAnna

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