Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I grew up in a stable, loving, caring environment... not that I didn’t have my share of love and support, but it was scarce and not as unconditional as one would hope to receive. It took me a really long time to love myself because of this. It took me 28 years... I wonder who I would be if I were given a better chance, or had been born into something different. When all the wondering happens, I start to feel angry, and mad at myself for being where I was. It’s silly. I get mad over something I could have never controlled. Here I am, well into my adulthood, and still I struggle with accepting love. My husband loves me, he shows me various was in which he loves me, unconditionally, but sometimes it makes me feel guilty, because I feel like I don’t deserve it. I’ve been conditioned to think that first, before acceptance of love, first I always have to question it. I hate that about myself. When someone is nice to me, I question their motives, not just think to myself “oh, they’re just being nice.” Maybe it was where I was, or what mindset I am in, but I’m over it. I am learning how to be enough, for myself and my journey. It’s been a rocky road, but I feel like it’s starting to finally take off. It only took like, 28 years 😅 I am in the year of self reflection for myself. 2020 will be the last year I’ll be in my 20s, I’ve got to gear up for the next 10 years. These next 10 will have less self loathing, hopefully. I am better than what I was given.