In Defence Of Being Visible

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I am happy with myself. I have flaws and insecurities, as every person does, but I wouldn’t change who I am, even if I could.

This is not glowing self-praise, nor blatant narcissism, but it still feels rather strange and alien to declare that I am happy with myself as a human being. It’s been so ingrained into my mind now that I must preface every compliment I give myself with a quick self-deprecating jab to remind myself (and to assure others) not to seem uppity or conceited.

Isn’t that bizarre? Is it not a strikingly forlorn habit that distancing yourself from your own kindness has become so normalised?

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