A couple of years ago, I lost respect for myself. 

I settled for the things I thought I deserved. 

I settled for way too many things. 

I didn’t think I was worthy of love or any kind of gratitude. 

I pushed away anyone who told me any different. 

My bed became my sanctuary, the living room a nightmare. 

The kitchen became a place to avoid my feelings, filling the emptiness inside of me with anything I could find. 

I was searching for things to fill that emptiness in all the wrong places. 

I looked everywhere before I faced the truth. 

I scoured every inch before I came to the conclusion of where the emptiness was really coming from. 

I found my respect again, but it wouldn’t have been lost for very long if I’d searched the right places.