Going out to a tea house. I FEEL beautiful. Then, my mind starts to question myself. Well- do I look good or is the way I feel just a figment of my imagination? Does anyone else think I look good?
It’s funny really. What does it matter if anyone else thinks I look good but me? This points me in the direction of that wounded side of myself that fragmented through the judgement of others when I was a child or perhaps before that. The times when I experienced not being accepted for who I am and fell into the belief that how I look on the outside is more important than who I am on the inside.
I like to look good. I like to express myself through beautiful projections of myself about how I feel on the inside. However, that gets compromised when I start doing these things for others and not myself. When I start to look good for others, I am masking my true identity.