lacking self confidence - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Dear Luna, tell me of why you chose to be silver over gold, a simple reflection over being a real star with light of your own; for our world needs stars to guide the way, ones with hearts as pure as yours. Did you think, my dove, that to be a star you had to be son? For what is gender at all? Are you not simply humans, born to love, to shine brightly for others? So be bright, be bold, be brilliant. You, are a daughter, and, as I have told the others for all this time , that I will always keep a "door to her," to my moon-child, my Luna, as treasured as the sun. She is one who lights up the world, commanding the surrender of the darkest of nights to bring eternal dawn. Stars are, in truth, brilliant together, born to shine in their place and time, each as wonderful as the other, each created to be its own self in that constellation of beauty.
Casey looked at her ideas list again. How could she have been so dumb? Why had they seemed so good last night only to be full of flaws by morning. They would never work! As her mind span it's usual carousel of reasons she would never amount to anything, she pulled out her uniform to check it for fryer grease. There were some spots but it was good enough. Any one of her ideas would take years to build around her full-time work, years of sacrifice, and then what? Then she'd have one more failure to add to her nonexistent resume. No way. She took her list and tossed it in the recycling bag. "No more stupid ideas," she told herself. "You're nothing special, so why even try?" She pulled her blonde hair back into a tight pony-tail and applied her make-up. A pretty girl stared back, a girl with the intelligence to be a professional writer, a computer programmer, an entrepreneur; but all she saw was someone ordinary, incapable and worthless.
There was a time I thought I knew everything, so confident was I. Then, as age crept into my bones and my eyes grew wider instead of being hung with wrinkles, I saw how inadequate my knowledge was. It seems that whatever I do someone is disappointed in that version of myself. My secular friends want the secular me, my religious friends prefer the spiritual me, I prefer to be honest with everyone but how many people really want honesty? How many people want truth? I thought when I found the truth I could shout it out like good news, but it seems that it's the last thing anyone wants. They want to be right already with no alterations to be made. I thought discovering how every religion has a piece of truth would be enough for a beginning of reconciliation and harmony - I was naive. In this world the truth was a casualty long ago and true love right along with it. But I want both, I need both, I wish I could show others how to find it to but they won't follow. They halt at the perimeter of the world they already know and won't take another step, so sure of their own understanding of the world is the right one. I love to examine new ideas, but whoever I speak to is looking for me to simply see things their way and stop, but I can't. This journey is life long. I fail everyday. I feel small everyday. Small steps into the darkness and pray for light, I don't know another way to be.
When she looks in the mirror shes see brokenness, anger, hurt, hungry, pain, sorrow and the list goes on and on. When other people look at her all they see is her, her reflection. But that's because they don't see her true self, her inner pain because she hides it from the world. Afraid of what they would think of her. But as soon as that special someone came, they were not beside her in the mirror. But looking back at her. They changed that brokenness, to one again. That anger to joy, that hurt to happiness, hungry to full, pain to kindness, sorrow to glorious. That old torn down self to a beautiful living spirit that once walked the earth always looking down just wondering where the next road would lead her. But now she's free, thanks to that special someone. That special someone that simply told her just to smile. That special someone who was just trying to look out for her. That special someone who thought they knew the real her, but only knew what she wanted them to know. That special someone had no idea they just saved a life. That special someone was her, her reflection, that little girl in the mirror. You know that one looking back at her, pointing out all her imperfections. Trying to tear me down. But there was a little part of her heart that was still beating. Knowing she did have a place in the world, she just had to find that spark, that spark to just start that fire back up. And she found it, that spark was just a simple little smile. Her smile brought back my true color. Who knew a smile could change her life, forever.
I thought I look pretty decent until Sasha shows up with her girl gang. I look at my prom dress and then at hers. Now I feel like I wore my mum's wedding dress next to hers which looks like a real princess's gown. She even has a tiara with real diamonds. My self-confidence deteriorates like the drop of a rollercoaster. Even her clique that usually never looks good surprisingly look better than I do. I feel the need to escape and hide so no one can see how much of an embarrassment I am and this ugly dress that I thought would look with the bit of hips that I have and the somewhat large boobs that I was gifted from my mother.