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I like myself when I’m with you
It’s embarrassing to admit that I don’t like myself very much. Far more embarrassing, though, to tell you all that sometimes I think I’m OK. The latter carries way more shame, I want to whisper it in small-font italics. Sometimes I think I’m quite good, actually. Occasionally the tall, loud, brash, opinionated mess that makes up ‘me’ doesn’t feel so obnoxious. I like myself when I’m with you.