I sit at the kitchen table, pick up paper and pen, and start jolting down random ideas. I write "self love" on the top of the first paper. Suddenly, I block myself. What does it even mean? Why have these two words just popped in my mind? How does this concept apply to me? I have a lot of thinking to do, to be fair.

First of all, "self love" implies that there's a feeling of affection. Not to another person, but to oneself. It entails confidence, a strong character and positivity. All qualities that I seem to lack for most part. They are difficult to attain, but not necessarily impossible.

The process I need to follow through to learn to love myself is packed with obstacles of every kind, boundaries I'm meant to overcome, struggles I have to set aside for my own good. It's not something I must do on my own. I have to trust my instinct and, most importantly, other people.

I write down everything that comes in my mind. Then, more painful memories of my life back in Waterbridge emerge from the darkness. An unloving family who did nothing to make me feel loved, leaving me nothing but scars that are hard to heal.

My parents were more worried about keeping up appearances than making sure the family was united as a whole. When cracks started showing, they, instead of trying to fix them, let everything crumble. My older brother Jesse forced his toxic girlfriend, now wife, in our lives.

My older sister Leanne was focused exclusively on fitting in a better social circle, brushing off my attempts of maintain contact. Lastly, Delyla and Sadie, my younger sisters, barely had a good opinion of me. They also never tried to contact me after I left my old hometown.

Not that it's anything bad. Leaving people who brought me nothing that pain and hurt up to my late teens is for my good; even though thoughts of them occasionally resurface, they dissolve, but at a costly price: I'm down in the dumps until I recollect myself.

The truth may hurt hard, but it has always helped me when it comes to moving forward. So, here's when Julie's latest piece of advice comes to my mind. 'Self-love often starts small, like planting a single seed. With time, patience, and a bit of light, it will blossom.'

I write it down and highlight it. This is the most important part, the one I have to remember for the rest of my life. That said, I go and look for some tape so that I can attach my paper to the fridge. When I'm down and need something to lift myself up, I know where to look.

***

As I sit at my favorite café, sipping an Earl Grey tea and doubling down on pastries and scones, I rethink of my previous brainstorm on self-love. It has somehow helped me to clear my mind. Hot tea is doing the rest.

The café is almost empty, not counting the two staff. It's 2PM; so, the lack of customers is quite unusual for this time frame. I try to ask the waitress if there's a specific reason why there's barely anyone here, but she just shrugs. "I don't know."

I turn to the lady at the counter, who has the same answer. What is even going on? Spring break has been long over, but this isn't even summer holiday season—it's not meant to start before June.

I go back to my tea and pastries. I sip the drink very slowly; similarly, I take my time to bite the pastries, savoring every flavor to its full extent. When I'm finally done, an hour has passed.

I'm ready to pay, when I overhear the two staffers talk about some literary event in the area. "Arthur Black and Kelsi Pearson are also gonna take part in it," is the counter lady's statement.

What? For real? Not Kelsi! She's a fucking thief and a snake oil seller. Does she have some shame? Showing up in public after basically feeding her protégé a work stemmed on plagiarism? If I catch her, I'll make sure to bust her.

The waitress crosses her arms as I sigh in disappointment. "What's the problem? I mean, they are key figures in the publishing industry."

I try to justify myself. "Well, I don't deny their impact, but Kelsi's ethics is pretty questionable. She has plagiarism allegations under her belt." I maintain a generic tone to avoid being accused of feeling envy for her.

However, this isn't enough to change the two ladies' mind. They maintain their position of absolute defense of that plagiarizer. Since I don't want to deal with controversy, I pay for my order and leave in silence. Hopefully, next time I come here, I won't be served by those two snakes again.

***

I return home after three hours because I decided to run some extra errands following my tea break. I went to the post office to pay bills in advance and also bought a few envelopes along with some letter paper.

I also took a look at potential offers at a few clothes shop and spent around sixty dollars, more than I expected. At least I'm happy now. I'll take some time to try my new items later. Now, I just want to take a quick shower and relax a little bit.

***

After I'm done with my shower, I pick a sheet from the paper letter I bought at the post office, and an envelope. No, I'm not planning to send anyone a letter. It's for my future self. I'll keep it short and simple, nothing pretentious or over the top.

'Self-love is an art. Or maybe a craft. It's the measure that defines one's confidence. Always remember that, dear future Braverly.

'Before past memories resurface, bringing you pain that can be avoided, remember that, as much as you can try running away from them, you'll have to face them. Better sooner than later.

'Don't be afraid. Be brave. Your fear fed your enemies in the past and kept friendly faces away. To turn your life to a new leaf, you've got to leave fear starving and consuming itself. Honor the name you carry.

'Because self-love isn't the means, or the goal. It's the journey as a whole. Never forget that. This is a message I write you from the deep of your heart. Keep it close with you when you need it.

'Yours truly,
Braverly Lane.'

I read the letter aloud just once, then fold the paper, stuff it in the envelope and hide it in a place so secluded I'm sure I'll only remember it when I'm already old. Anyway, I head toward the kitchen, ready to make dinner.

I take one more look at the paper I taped on the fridge. The one where I vented my thoughts on self-love earlier today. I read it proudly, as if I were to show this effort to my future self. It will take time, but I'll learn to love myself once for all. I'm confident I will. For myself and nobody else.