Hannah

“We want to be seen. We want to matter. We want to belong. We want to be loved. We are built with these desires - desires so deep it is instinctual from the moment we are born. For me, middle school was awful. I was deeply insecure, and I was certain everyone was laughing at me. If I caught a glimpse of myself in the locker room mirror, I would cringe. I couldn't stand the way I looked. I hated my frizzy, curly hair and the gap between my front teeth. I hated my fair skin. I hated the way I felt inside my skin. I wanted to be someone else. Someone cool, someone prettier, someone happier, someone more loveable. I thought the answer was Reebok tennis shoes, but after this conversation I knew that wasn't the answer - I just hoped the answer wouldn't be impossible to find.”
― Lisa Leonard, Be You: 20 Ways to Embrace Who You Really Are

“It occurs to me that in the year Shunkin's picture was taken—when she was thirty-six—Sasuke himself became blind; the last time he saw her she must have looked rather like this. Was the picture of her which he carried in his memory in old age as faded as this photograph? Or did his imagination make up for a gradually failing memory? Did he create an image of another lovely woman, of one altogether different from the woman in the photograph?”
― Junichirô Tanizaki

“There are people who spend every day immersed in these considerations—like the younger women I saw standing by the shelves—following the trajectories detailed in these books, doing things to become happier, to become better versions of themselves. These women had so many choices, and so many temptations, so many layers of coincidences and incidents, and the choices they made would change the color of their lives. They were surrounded by possibility.”
― Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar