We are not the number on the scale or how many calories we put into our stomach.
We are not the number of people who watch us from afar, not really knowing our lives but feeling like they're connecting to something virtually real.
We are not the amount of men that find us attractive or the men that have enough confidence to touch us inappropriately.
We are not the digits that shine back at us when we deposit of cheque from work.
We are not the amount of clothes, home decor or plants that clutter our physical and emotional space.
We are not our GPA and we are not how much we spent to turn it into a degree.
We are not how much or how little we do our art, as though tipping the scales in either direction decides its merit.
We are not the amount of miles on our car or stamps on our passport.
We are not how many limbs we have, but rather, how we use the ones we've got.
We are not the layers of makeup we use to cover up the multitude of perfect imperfections.
We are not how many affirmations we say in the mirror if none of them stick.
We are not our numbers.