I hate writing my thoughts down,  but I hate my thoughts even more. I hate not feeling good enough. I hate biting my tongue. I hate being a rug. When did this become ok? 

When did I stop mattering in my own life? All I can think is when will I be enough for him. Pretty enough, good enough, sexual enough. I just never feel like enough. 

Nothing hurts more then having someone you love view you as less. Or even worse only see your flaws. I know what I'm not. I see what I'm not every time I look in the mirror, everyone I look in my head. And now I know that's all he sees when he looks at me, what I'm not. 

Is that why he wants other women? Because of what I'm not, who I'm not. Because of who he sees when he looks at me? 

I miss bringing strong. I miss who I was before him, who I was in the beginning. I wonder what happened to her, when she disappeared