queen of the unloved.

23 years young, and my lips have never locked another's, 

and my hands have never held a lover's,

and i seem to be the queen of the unloved.

i'm going to write about what i know: the lack of "love life" of a certain 23, going on 24 year old (kind of) adult woman. (hey, that's me!) in my nearly 24 years of life, no member of the opposite sex has ever showed even an inkling of romantic interest in me. and to be honest, it's taken me a long time to accept that this fact isn't the end of the world. younger versions of myself would disagree, but trust me, younger me's: it's okay. it's okay that the only boy who ever wanted to hold your hand or kiss you was ultimately more interested in holding the hand of a cute boy instead. at least you have that, amelia. (be more grateful, amelia! okay. thanks amelia.) the only reason that this "little fact" is troubling, especially to the the self esteem of a red-blooded human, is because it all comes down to size.

my size, to be exact.

being a fat girl your whole life is hard, and i of course am far from blameless when it comes to my size, but genetics play their part and also my background of parents who have never really known how to cook healthy also plays a part. and i like to believe i'm more than my clothes size (22-24) or how much i weigh on a scale. i like to believe there is more to me than my large stature or my slightly average looks, but somehow boys have never quite been able to look past this.

i have a killer personality (on a good day) and i promise i can make you laugh (and also tell you a lot of seemingly useless information about various films, television shows, actors, actresses and western union transactions), so shouldn't all that be enough? i mean, i wish it were, but it never has seemed to be. and it's sad, really. why should i have to shrink myself in order for someone to love me? i mean, there are far more crueler and harsher injustices happening in this world all of the time, but this is my life. so all of this matters to me. and why shouldn't it? and sometimes (not nearly as often as it used to) it really bothers me, and makes my heart constrict in my chest a bit. but i take a deep breath, remind myself that it's okay, and life goes on.

life always continues to go on. regardless of whether or not the fat girl gets crush on or "dug like a grave". i'm learning to accept myself. love my size. revel in the beauty i possess inwards as well as outwards. my self-worth is not decided by numbers on a scale. or by the fat girl stores i have to buy the majority of my clothes at. and it's definitely not decided by cute boys who have never given me a second glance, or by those i've befriended and liked and who never felt it necessary to reciprocate those feelings. 

learning to love myself, flaws and all, is not easy. but why should we need the validation of others in order for the self-love to exist? it's hard. i know that first hand, but i also know that it's possible. i don't often even like myself, but the love is always there. even on my lowest days. and ultimately i'm the only one who has my back. so the love, and belief, and trust in myself has to be there. otherwise, what will my life have been? we only get this one little life. what good does hating yourself accomplish? that negativity that eats at your brain will often try and get the best of you. please, try your hardest not to let it. and don't allow yourself to read too much into the fact that no guy has ever wanted to kiss you, or dance with you in the kitchen at one in the morning. you never know, it could happen. one day. but, if it doesn't, don't let that be the thing that defines you.

define yourself.

love yourself with all your heart, because at the end of the day, you're all that you have.

with or without a significant other.


(this was probably kind of all over the place, but it's late and my thoughts are jumbled like the hooks you hang christmas ornaments up on the tree with. also, holla at my one year hiatus from the blog. truth be told, i forgot it existed.)