lucky - by Ava - bookbear express
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+ 10 things I enjoyed this week
Louise Bourgeois, Untitled, 1946-1947 When I was a teenager I would occasionally stand in front of the mirror and cry until my face was swollen because I thought I was so ugly. Isn’t that ridiculous? In retrospect it makes sense: I never trusted anyone else’s love because I didn’t trust my own. Maybe that’s part and parcel of girlhood—maybe everyone everywhere feels like this, I don’t know. There was some intangible shame I carried around with me, the fear of always not being good enough. It was in the way I scrutinized my body, blamed it for everything bad that happened to me. It was in…
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