Love Prohibited

As of the first, I have committed myself to a thirty one day love challenge.
The information for the challenge can be found here, any time of the year.
https://www.facebook.com/events/1532973040295644/?ref_notif_type=event_mall_reply&source=29

Today is day three, in which I am asked to look into the mirror and telling myself these things:

You are loveable.
Your worth is not measured in the size of your body.
You have purpose.

Now to write about my experience!
I sat in front of the mirror timidly. Looking at myself, really looking has always been a problem to me. I don't like how I am so quick to zero in on the flaws and make mental remarks about them. However, I was prompted not to look at my face, to focus on my eyes.
So I hunched over the sink. Tilted my head just so...
The first thing I noticed is that my eyes are allot warmer colored than I realized. They're like melted chocolate, deep brown, with a hint of caramel undertones. My pupils dilate, and I see myself.
I really see.
Anger
I see how angry I am. Angry that I have to do this in order to help myself. Angry that I can't just already love myself, I couldn't just already be okay. Anger that I feel shame.
I push past the anger and I say "You are loveable."
My eyes water... so I say it again, feeling that familiar ache in my chest. "You are loveable" I repeat. "I am loveable."
"You're worth is not measured with the size of your body... " I repeat it.
What was that last bit? I check on my phone at the prompt, then I look in the mirror again, noticing my shaggy brows, the freckles on my cheeks, then commanding myself to look past the tired rings under my eyes. I look deeper. I look into my eyes, which are hungry for this. Hungry for what I am about to say next. Needing to at least hear the words, if they cannot yet believe.
"You have purpose" I say.
I know... my eyes return back at me. I know....Where have you been?
And suddenly I remember myself as a skinny little wide eyed girl. I used to stand in the mirror for hours modeling. Selling myself my own toothbrush or soap in my own make believe commercials. I was made fun of for it, but I didn't care then, I was just having fun.
"momma" I say to myself
But I push those memories away. Or I try to, but in the back of my head I say Momma.. why?
Why can't you help me? Why was I hurt and no one did anything to stop it? 
Tears roll down my cheeks.
There isn't an answer.
Yet, I sit here, typing this to you and feeling accomplished. For the first time in a long time, I looked in the mirror, and instead of telling myself I'm too fat, my nose is too big, I'm too yellow, my hair is too wild and crazy.. I shut that nasty part of me, that nasty mentality that only seeks to render me into pieces. I shut it down and for a moment, I lifted myself up.