Quotes About Self-acceptance

Enter this laboratory of the soul where incidents are refracted into a diary, dissected to prove that every one of us carries a deforming mirror where he sees himself too small or too large, too fat or too thin… Once the deforming mirror is smashed, there is a possibility of wholeness; there is a possibility of joy. —Diary 1, pg. 105

Cannot or will not accept himself. How can I accept a limited definable self when I feel, in me, all possibilities?

Trying to please everyone all the time never works. It leads to hating oneself and then hating oneself even more when one later tries to assert one's authority.

I would look in the mirror and think, "This is what I am, make the most of it. Trust it. Believe in it. Confidence will prevail!

Loving yourself isn't vanity. It's sanity.

Mieux vaut être haï pour ce que l'on est, qu'aimé pour ce que l'on n'est pas.

I gazed at myself, no longer with shame, but with joy. I felt, if not exactly strong, then at least potentially so, harmonious, sensuous, almost beautiful.

And at fifty, Less muses drowsily, you're as likable as you're going to get.

Clark always says that you can be thin or you can be happy, and, Arthur, I have already tried thin.

Arthur, you're going to have to figure something out. You see all these men over fifty, these skinny men with mustaches. Imagine all the dieting and exercise and effort of fitting into your suits from when you were thirty! And then what? You're still a dried-up old man. Screw that. Clark always says you can be thin or you can be happy, and, Arthur, I have already tried thin.

I chose fat and functional over slender and miserable.

It is a surprise to me to like myself; among all the elaborate possibilities I contemplated for my future, that never figured. My hard-won contentment reflects the simple truth that inner peace often hinges on outer peace. In the gnostic gospel of St. Thomas, Jesus says, "If you bring forth what is within you, what is within you will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what is within you will destroy you.

Treating an identity as an illness invites real illness to make a braver stand.

The LP actress Linda Hunt once wrote, 'Dwarfism, after all, isn't like cancer or heart disease. It isn't fatal, and it isn't even an illness. It is physical, though, and inescapable. You don't get over it. It is you. But you aren't it, and that's an important distinction.

I hate the loss of diversity in the world, even though I sometimes get tired of embodying that diversity. I don't wish for anyone in particular to be gay, but the idea of no one being gay makes me miss myself already.

Pimples are a temporary condition and they don't have anything to do with what you really look like. Always omit the blemishes—they're not part of the good picture you want.

I really look awful, and I never bother to primp up or try to be appealing because I just don't want anyone to get involved with me. And that's the truth. I play down my good features and play up the bad ones. So I look awful and I wear the wrong pants and the wrong shoes and I come at the wrong time with the wrong friends, and I say the wrong things and I talk to the wrong person, and then still sometimes somebody gets interested and I freak out and I wonder, What did I do wrong?

If I make a fool of myself, who cares? I'm not frightened by anyone's perception of me.

and god help you if you are an ugly girl course too pretty is also your doom cause everyone harbors a secret hatred for the prettiest girl in the room and god help you if you are a pheonix and you dare to rise up from the ash a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy while you are just flying back

once you stop worrying what the world will think of you, your life will become that much easier to live.

For the first time in her life she was proud of her size, proud of her strength, even proud of her oddly boyish face. She could see interest, even admiration in the faces of many of the girls.

Because she was raw and uncertain, and she liked to keep all the messy parts of herself to herself. ... As much as Lena liked to hide the mess and display the finished product, by this point she was all mess and no product.

She was never going to be the kind of person who didn't stick out in all directions. To want it was the same as hating herself. That was the truth. She breathed those words. She could have repeated them a hundred times and they wouldn't have hurt any worse. Reality was stubborn for sure, but it was large and it had possibilities. It was a sweet relief when you let it come.

The most beautiful place in the world, is anyplace. Anyplace you can hold your head up. Anyplace you can be proud of who you are. But I though, where you love somebody a whole lot, and you know that person loves you, that's the most beautiful place in the world.