I feel like i’m going to take my breath away….

Narcissists get such a bad rap, but most of us here could sure use a dose of “I’m fine, it’s you that has the problem.”

KatRose, most of us who aren’t TV stars have weird, funny, strange, bumpy bodies. It isn’t a crime. I know the self-disgust you feel comes from a deep black bitter hole inside you. I wish I could magic it away for you… for myself. I know you have a hard time believing me when I say, “you’re OK,” but I’ll say it anyway.

You’re OK.

You’re OK. Even if the entire human race voted on your physical attractiveness and found you lacking, you’re still OK. Even if your appearance frightens children and alarms nuns, you deserve everything everyone else deserves.

All humans, dead, alive, or yet to be born are a speck compared to the firey expanse of our local galaxy. A ravenous black hole cares not a whit about what we look like. Cold, dead rogue worlds are indifferent to the shape of our toes.

Rejoice! Rejoice in our insignificance! Raise your mandibles high and be proud that the genetic difference between you and Beyoncé is the size of three long molecules. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like or even how good your heart is.

In the cosmic blink of an eye we will be dead. Everything we have ever done will be like writing in the sand. No memory of us will remain.

And thus, we have great power. We have the power to be whatever we want to be. We have the power to tell those that judge us to fuck off. Nobody is keeping score. Awards will not be awarded. The finish line we all seem to be running towards isn’t actually there.