Unapologetically Myself Quotes

When I accept myself, I am freed from the burden of needing you to accept me.

I Love Loving You You are my favorite song; a rhythm of beauty that captures my spirit. You are my favorite poem; an exquisite grouping of ideas set in motion with an unmatched enchanting elegance. You are my best friend; from our laughter to our deep conversations, our moments together are a timeless pleasure. You are my soul mate; a connection so pure, so powerful, that it can only be considered divine. You are my lover; a passionate entwinement, a chorus of ecstasy, and a feeling of complete unity that words could never adequately describe. You are my angel; you remind me of the goodness in this world and inspire me to be the greatest version of myself. You are my home; it is in your loving gaze that I find the comfort, acceptance, and the sense of belonging. You are my love ~ mi amor; there are not enough days in forever to allow me to fully express my love for you. I love loving you.

I was taught that being myself was not only okay, but encouraged - and by being unapologetically yourself, you thrive and inspire others to thrive.

That is my hope for you, dear reader. It’s the same hope I had for Rune at the beginning of her story. (And for myself, in a way.) I hope you stop caring so much about the opinions of others and allow yourself to live. I hope you find the courage to be unapologetically yourself and start making your life—and maybe even the world—what you and the ones you love need it to be.

I stay myself, doing what I do, feeling as I feel, unapologetically saying and doing things in my own way.

Her love... so unconditional, so unapologetic; reminds me that I am worth so much more than the standard I have set for myself.

I was taught that being myself was not only okay, but encouraged—and by being unapologetically yourself, you thrive and inspire others to thrive.

No Blame: The most liberating and empowering day of my life was the day I freed myself from my own self-destructive nonsense.

Where it Matters Being with you today is worth all the broken hearts of yesterday. In a flash, all of the stumbling blocks of relationships gone wrong have become the stepping stones to our perfect love. We fit. I now understand the feeling I used to think was pain that came along with love was actually the discomfort from being in a place I didn’t fit. Thank you for being you… for sharing your love with me… for inspiring me to accept myself… for helping me see the unique beauty in imperfection… for showing me that love is something you do; something not just to be said, but also to be shown. I am not perfect; neither are you. I love that! Our love is perfect. And even though we may not be, our love creates a bridge that spans over our imperfections and joins us where it matters. I love you!

Thank you for being you… for sharing your love with me… for inspiring me to accept myself… for helping me see the unique beauty in imperfection… for showing me that love is something you do; something not just to be said, but also to be shown.

I forgive myself for ingesting shame I did not choose but was fed anyway,” says Aja. “I may not yet be unashamed, but I am wholly unapologetic.

Was this the real me? Stripped of the ability to look like a punk- what defined me as one? Not my jacket. Not my clothes. My friends? My enemies? No. What I did determined who I was, not what I looked like or what I liked. My actions and reactions. Did I emerge from the shell? I felt naked and free. Was I now pupa or chrysalis? I felt like myself- and that was what punk was. The freedom to be who I was unapologetically, even if I hadn't chosen it.

An airplane needs air resistance to gain lift. A sword needs to be beaten and shaped to be made sharp and hard. I needed to be held back in order to move forward. And, since then, I’ve never stopped moving forward.

I want to get one thing straight right from the start: I am not a natural-born jock. I am about as intrinsically athletic as an oyster, with the innate grace and sporty prowess of a brick—a very cute oyster and a very intelligent brick, if I do say so myself, but oysterly and bricklike nevertheless.

Ow!” I yelp. My eyes pop open and I jerk up into a sitting position, automatically reaching for my now injured leg. “You kicked me!” I accuse as I glare angrily at my attacker. I still in disbelief as I find myself once again face to face with the same boy I had encountered only days before. “I had to make sure you were alive,” he states simply, an edge of amusement coloring his words, as he shrugs unapologetically. “It’s not like I find a lot of girls playing dead in the woods.

In that moment, I decided: I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I will study whatever I need to, practice whatever I need to, force myself to take action and do anything—no matter how scary or uncomfortable—again and again and again until I break out of this cage and create the life I want. I will not quit. I will not stop.

Killian made me feel protected, and like I could unapologetically be myself for the first time in my life, while still being cherished.

Each time you protect your energy, you send a powerful message: “I value myself

Four Spells to Keep Inside Your Mouth ‘I respect myself’—the most powerful incantation that will change your whole life if you believe it when you say it. ‘My heart is too valuable for you’—the spell that will set you free from any destructive soul. ‘I believe in you’—the best gift you can ever give anyone else. ‘No’—a single, commanding, two-letter spell with the ability to liberate you if only you learn to use it unapologetically and cast it without fear.

I know I can't take all that shame away from him. But I can start by showing him how much I'm not ashamed. Not only am I not ashamed, I'm proud. I can't make him love himself. The closest I can get is loving myself unapologetically in front of him. Like Bo did in front of me. Maybe then he'll get it.

Sharing my full truth became an essential part of my healing process, and remains that way, but it's a continuous journey in giving myself permission to grieve publicly and unapologetically. It does, at times, leave me exposed to people who don't know how to handle it, folks who offer unhelpful comments, opinions, or criticisms.

The most liberating and empowering day of my life was the day I freed myself from my own self-destructive nonsense.

If I couldn't be myself with the people I chose to surround myself with, then I wasn't being real. And I'd made a promise to never allow myself to be anything other than who I was- unapologetically.

Through much resistance on my part, you made it easy, and it was so different from basic relationships or familial love. I didn’t know what it was about you that made things so peculiar. You talk about your scent fetish, but as it turned out, I was also addicted to yours. It wasn’t a game for me, and I felt it much deeper than I can probably even describe in words—the combining of souls. If you weren’t around, I found myself missing you; I found myself needing you. My body, my mind, and my spirit need you. I am the world’s biggest fool, the biggest pain in the ass, but I’m stupidly, unapologetically, and whole-heartedly in love with you. I’ve waited so long to tell you that."-Tara

For the first time, I had to fight for my life. It's a fight most people will never understand. We all think we will rise to the challenge when the moment comes, but most of us go our whole lives without that belief being tested. I tested it today. I learned to fight through fear, to stay calm in a sea of chaos, and that I will not quit, even when the odds are against me. For all my cuts and bruises and breaks, I am happy it happened. I am different because it happened.

But humans? Humans laid it bare. They were loud and expressive and unapologetic. This struck me, strange and confusing. My humanness had been the reason why I’d spent a lifetime dimming myself. For these people, it was the reason they burned brighter.

At the beginning of each day, simply ask yourself a few questions. First, ask yourself, “How can I make myself better?” I put this first because you can’t start to fill someone else’s cup if yours is empty. You need charged batteries if you’re going to shine.

Why am I feeling this way? Because she doesn’t love me. Because she chose money over my sister and me. But it doesn’t matter because I love myself.  That’s what therapy has taught me—to love myself. And I do. Unapologetically and without question, I love myself.  Someone’s got to.

I’m going to speak up. I’m going to get comfortable disappointing other people to avoid disappointing myself. I won’t apologize for doing things the way I want to do them. I’m ready to be unapologetically me and let go of the people in my life who don’t approve of the person I am now.

You have to get only a few pages into this book to realize that I quote a lot of people wiser than myself. I mean a lot of people. I’m unapologetic about this. It’s occurred to me many times over the course of writing this book that maybe I’m not really a writer. I’m a teacher or middleman. I take the curriculum of other people’s knowledge and I pass it along.

I unapologetically centered Vanessa in a first-person, present-tense narrative, forcing the reader to experience the story through her voice. I textured the prose with the trappings of her teenage world and the current violence that runs through virtually every girlhood. I imagined the novel I wished I could have discovered alongside Lolita at fourteen, how it might have felt then to read a book that told her story rather than his. I wrote for my younger self. I didn't try to transform her. I made myself take her seriously.

Through much resistance on my part, you made it easy, and it was so different from basic relationships or familial love. I didn’t know what it was about you that made things so peculiar. You talk about your scent fetish, but as it turned out, I was also addicted to yours. It wasn’t a game for me, and I felt it much deeper than I can probably even describe in words—the combining of souls. If you weren’t around, I found myself missing you; I found myself needing you. My body, my mind, and my spirit need you. I am the world’s biggest fool, the biggest pain in the ass, but I’m stupidly, unapologetically, and whole-heartedly in love with you. I’ve waited so long to tell you that." -Tara

have the right to approach anyone I want to start a conversation with. I have the right to change the subject or end the conversation whenever I would like. I have the right to insert myself into a conversation and interrupt someone who’s speaking. I have the right to say “no” to anything I don’t want to do, for any reason, without needing to justify it or give an excuse. I have the right to ask for what I want. I have the right to ask why and negotiate if someone initially says “no.” I have the right to offer anything to anyone, any number of times (and they have the right to say no). I have the right to change my mind; I do not always need to be logical and consistent. I have the right to ask questions whenever I’d like to know something. I have the right to disagree with others (even if they know more about the subject than I do). I have the right to share my perspective, even if someone might disagree or temporarily be uncomfortable. I have the right to make mistakes, mess up, or otherwise not be perfect. I have the right to not be responsible for others, including their feelings and problems. I have the right to take time and space to be by myself, even if others would prefer my company. I have the right not to have to anticipate others’ needs and wishes. If they have them, they can express them. I have the right to say yes to having sex, to enjoy sex, and to pause during sex to have a conversation. I have the right to be treated with respect. I have the right to expect honesty and integrity from others. I have the right to feel all of my feelings, including anger, grief, sadness, and fear. I have the right to feel grief about something for as long as that grief persists. I have the right to feel something or do something without needing to justify myself to others. I have the right to feel angry at those I love, and to express it in a responsible manner. I have the right to express my feelings assertively while respecting others. I have the right to choose how much I want to see a friend or someone I’m dating, and end the relationship if it does not feel desirable to me.

IN ADDITION TO having become a distinctly Christian party, the GOP is more than ever America’s self-consciously white party. The nationalization of its Southern Strategy from the 1960s worked partly because it rode demographic change. In 1960, 90 percent of Americans were white and non-Hispanic. Only a few states had white populations of less than 70 percent—specifically Mississippi, South Carolina, Louisiana, and Alabama. Today the white majority in the whole country is down nearly to 60 percent; in other words, America’s racial makeup is now more “Southern” than the Deep South’s was in the 1960s. For a while, the party’s leaders were careful to clear their deck of explicit racism. It was reasonable, wasn’t it, to be concerned about violent crime spiraling upward from the 1960s through the ’80s? We don’t want social welfare programs to encourage cultures of poverty and dependency, do we? Although the dog-whistled resentment of new policies disfavoring or seeming to disfavor white people became more audible, Republican leaders publicly stuck to not-entirely-unreasonable arguments: affirmative action is an imperfect solution; too much multiculturalism might Balkanize America; we shouldn’t let immigrants pour into the U.S. helter-skelter. But in this century, more Republican leaders started cozying up to the ugliest fantasists, unapologetic racists. When Congressman Ron Paul ran for the 2008 GOP nomination, he appeared repeatedly with the neo-Nazi Richard Spencer, who was just coining the term “alt-right” for his movement. Senator Rand Paul employed as an aide and wrote a book with a former leader of the League of the South, an organization devoted to a twenty-first-century do-over of Confederate secession. After we elected a black president, more regular whistles joined the kind only dogs can hear. Even thoughtful Ross Douthat, one of the Times’s conservative columnists, admitted to a weakness for the Old South fantasy. During the debate about governments displaying Confederate symbols after nine black people were shot dead by a white supremacist in Charleston, he discussed “the temptation…to regard the Confederate States of America as the political and historical champion of all…attractive Southern distinctives….Even a secession-hating Yankee like myself has felt, at certain moments the pull of that idea, the lure of that fantasy.

Honestly, yes. I think we owe it to ourselves to unapologetically love who we are no matter what. Because if you don’t love yourself, then why do you expect anyone else to?”  I contemplate what she says. Noah pulls Chloe’s attention away, talking to her about racing statistics and the secret behind the wheel he created.  If I don’t love myself, then who will? And what kind of love am I asking for if I’m hell-bent on showing the worst version of myself, time and time again.  Is that who I want to be? The guy who gives up after one time because things got hard? No. The opposite of a winner isn’t a loser. It’s the person who allows the loss to ruin any chance of trying again. The defeatist attitude needs to stop. Right here. Right now.

And until my time here is served, I’ll allow myself to become my father’s daughter—cold, cruel, deceptive, calculating, and unapologetic. But it’s the acceptance of one thing that truly sets me free. My heart has no place here.

I am a proud African, no matter what other nationality I may possess. I am a product of Africa, and I will never apologize to anyone for that. Like me or not, that's your problem. I stand tall in the richness of my heritage, embracing the diversity that makes me who I am. My roots are my strength, and I celebrate the beauty of being authentically myself, unapologetically African.

By pinpointing my shortcoming, he unshackled me from the heart that continues to weigh me down. A heart that has proven to be worthless. No one wants it, and I gave it way too freely. It’s made me reckless and weak. And so, I’ll stop supplying it with hope and lies. I’ll deny its existence and stupid aspirations. I’ll let it wither, try to take away its strength, and any power it holds over my decisions. And until my time here is served, I’ll allow myself to become my father’s daughter—cold, cruel, deceptive, calculating, and unapologetic. But it’s the acceptance of one thing that truly sets me free. My heart has no place here.

It’s good to discover what I want It’s good to ask for what I want. It’s good to say what I want. It’s good to say what I don’t want. It’s good to be able to put myself first.

I have more boundaries, more directness, and speak up for myself in my relationship with my wife more than I ever have in any other relationship.

Take accountability for it. It’s your fault. Failure is going to happen. When it does, see number 1. If you want to fail less, see numbers 3–7. An ounce of prevention prevents a pound of cure. The best time to start preparing is right now. You cannot mass-produce elite people. They need to be forged from hard experiences. If you want to be one of them, you need to seek these challenges consistently. Take care of yourself physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. For some people that means therapy. For some people that means yoga and a cup of tea or fishing with the family. For me that means embracing a constant struggle. Rejecting comfort makes me… well… comfortable. Surround yourself with good people striving to also improve themselves. Build goals and pursue them to the end of the earth.

I know I've changed a lot-that I've come a long way from who I used to be-but I want more than anything to just be confident and unapologetic about who I am and how I feel, and not have to try so hard all the time. I'm still working on that part of myself

I'm letting myself unapologetically be a mess.

A girl like her will never like someone like me the same way. I’m unapologetically myself and I won’t change for a woman, even one as perfect as her. But I’ll make changes.

When I’m in the company of an emotionally intelligent woman, it allows me to be unapologetically myself, and it reminds me that being emotional is a wonderful thing.

I sensed her before I saw her but I didn't scream. I remember thinking at the time that the split seconds before death were a quiet and still place. Her eyes were unapologetic, piercing and untamed. This is how it will end, I thought to myself with no sense of tragedy. It seemed complete and, in a way, romantic. But another second passed and then another. She released me from her hypnotic gaze and bent her beautiful head. And then with gentle flicks of her tongue began to drink from the river. Her eyes never wavered from mine as she lapped at the cool waters that flowed between us. And then, in a blink and a whisper, she was gone.

We were quiet for a while. Then Paul said, "I almost did it once." "Did what?" "Killed myself." The confession alone was shocking enough. It was the stark, unapologetic fierceness of his tone that frightened me. "Why?" "I was depressed," he said with a smirk. "Did you really want to die?" "No one commits suicide because they want to die." "Then why do they do it?" "Because they want to stop the pain.” Once again, his lack of guile was unsettling. But his words resonated somewhere inside of me. He took a drag off the cigarette, raised his mouth, and sent three smoke rings into the air. Watching them dissipate, he asked me if I was happy. But before I had a chance to respond he said, "Don't answer that. It's a stupid question. I don't believe in the myth of happiness any more than you do." This is where Paul had it wrong. I did believe in the myth. I had to. Otherwise I don't think I would have been there. Happiness is elusive, for sure. But like love, and music, I believed in it because I could feel it.

My participation in the Anita Bryant protest shattered the straight-boy image I’d created for myself -- instantly and permanently -- and since that day I haven’t hidden my sexual orientation from anyone. I have lived as an openly gay man, an unapologetic faggot who loves as he sees fit.

My music is not staid or proper, pretty or respectable. It is not for the mother looking for a biddable bride for her son at church or for the son looking for a pretty housekeeper to call his wife. It is adventurous and weighty, loud and boisterous, fuming when it wants to be and despondent when it needs to be. It is unapologetically emotional in a way I am never allowed to be without consequence. My music is a girl who behaves like a boy: flat shoes and comfortable slacks, loud-mouthed and ready to take on the world. My music is black in a place where black isn’t an insult: it’s shining, proud, and unworried. I let myself transform into wood and sound and vibration.

I am worthy of love. It is okay to love myself just as I am.

People often ask me what my beliefs are, and the answer is simple: I believe in myself, duh!

I was. In one way or another, I was never more myself than right then. Desperately, terrifyingly, unapologetically myself. And I’d just discovered the power of it, how it wreaked destruction, not only on myself but on others.

Maybe I just want to be able to say that all stalkers are crazy, and that it’s not possible to fall in love with one. I want to be able to say it’s never happened before. And I want to say it’s absolutely impossible to find myself in a loving, passionate, and healthy relationship with a person who invaded every aspect of my life unapologetically.

A compliment has nothing to do with whether or not they are a good person, bitch. Get your head out of the clouds (I’m talking to myself, too).

He’s unapologetically brutal in his truths, and I should hate him for it, but I find myself wanting to just be around him. For some reason, I keep putting myself in front of that bullet.

Was this the real me? Stripped of the ability to look like a punk- what defined me as one? Not my jacket. Not my clothes. My friends? My enemies? No. What I did determined who I was, not what I looked like or what I liked. My actions and reactions. Did I emerge from the shell? I felt naked and free. Was I now pupa or chrysalis? I felt like myself- and that was what punk was. The freedom to be who I was unapologetically, even if I hadn't chosen it.

Makeup does NOT define my beauty. I am unapologetically me, and I love myself flaws and all! As a matter of fact, I feel most beautiful when I’m not wearing makeup. I prefer healthy, glowing skin from the inside out. I drink plenty of water, green tea, healthy smoothies with fresh fruits/vegetables, and I absolutely LOVE my daily Clinique skin care routine. I encourage girls and women all over the world to love the skin they’re in! Strive to have healthy looking skin, NOT perfect looking skin.

Emily was a hero. Courageous and clearheaded, defiant and unapologetic, a figure of truth and power. In this person, I did not yet see myself.

The trick of the Internet, I had learned, was not being unapologetically yourself or completely unfiltered; it was mastering the trick of appearing that way. It was spiking your posts with just the right amount of real… which meant, of course, that you were never being real at all. The more followers I got, the more I thought about that contradiction; the more my followers praised me for being fearless and authentic, the less fearless and authentic I believed myself to be in real life.

I’m going to get comfortable disappointing other people to avoid disappointing myself. I won’t apologize for doing things the way I want to do them. I’m ready to be unapologetically me and let go of the people in my life who don’t approve of the person I am now.

I deserve to die alone. I didn’t give a shit about anyone else but myself all my life, so there’s no reason to expect anybody else to give a shit about me. And you know what? I’m fine with that. I was an asshole, but I liked who I was. I’d rather be myself—an unapologetic self-centered son-of-a-bitch—and be hated by everyone, than have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t just so that people would care whether I lived or died.

Every step I take away from this place is a step toward myself, toward the life I was meant to claim, unbound and unapologetic.

Unapologetically and without question, I love myself.  Someone’s got to.

I’m an unapologetic Exquisite Black Queen… I’m not intimidated by you, her, him, or them. I’m a POWERFUL Black woman with a STRONG sense of self. I’m not afraid to assert myself, because my voice matters, too. I won’t apologize for being phenomenal!

For my entire life, I'd tried to shrink myself to fit in, to make others comfortable and happy and accepting of who I was. But Shadow was unapologetically himself, and if it was too much for me, then that was my issue. Years of blaming myself, when all along... The issue didn't like with me.