I’m just going to say right now that I’m still learning to like myself, nevermind love myself. I’m just going to talk about how I’m experiencing it because I think talking about it can help just as much as reading a post on “Ways to Love Yourself”. You never know, maybe you can relate, and sometimes feeling like there’s someone else in the world who knows how you feel can make you feel a lot better (don’t worry if this doesn’t fit you, something out there will, you aren’t alone).
I can’t remember when I first started feeling this about myself. Probably bullying. I have always been bullied for as long as I can remember (I have autism so I suppose I’m just a bit weird to some people, difference can be hard to cope with). In primary school, my main insult directed towards me was “You’re fat” and because I thought that I was (I wasn’t), it didn’t bother me that much. What did bother me was, when I cried “leave me alone!”, they would mock it and repeat it back to me. Like a parrot. I also had my stuff stolen and because my parents had recently divorced when I was about 8 we didn’t have much money. It put a strain on my home life, too (and my home life wasn’t very good…not abusive or anything. At least, not yet, more on that in another post…maybe…it wasn’t my mother, though).
Little did I know it only got much worse from there.
In school, and I won’t go into much detail about it in this post, I still got my stuff stolen. Luckily, I never got beaten up, but I did get asked out for a joke. They said I smelt for some reason so sprayed me with their cheap perfume which is quite the invasion of personal space. They were always scared to “catch” something from me so kept their distance. I was still called fat and made fun of for being weird. I had social anxiety, and still do, which they knew about because when social anxiety is bad enough you can’t really hide it and they would call me out in class and make me read out loud (and the teachers were fine with this, I guess it wasn’t a big deal to them but I was a mute for a reason). I had cold water dumped on me at one point. I did later find out when I left high school that I was bisexual but they apparently found out about it in the girls’ changing room for PE a long time before I discovered it and made homophobic comments. Girls were especially weary around me after that. Quite often called a “retard”. The only good thing that ever came out of that school was that the class thought I was the smart one, despite the fact I never got any higher grade than a C.
In a future post, I’ll more than likely go into more detail about it. For now, I’ll leave it at some of the highlights.
As a result of that, self-hatred blossomed. I ate for comfort and went from a comfortable size 12 in the UK to a size 20 in just a couple of years. I only really wear clothes like leggings and very loose shirts. What is the point in dressing nice when it’ll look a bit like putting a dolls dress on a potato? I am incapable of looking at my reflection, any part of me, without being near tears. I haven’t got many photos of me at all (unless filtered and from good angles). It ruins relationships/friendships (for example, in relationships, being too insecure to cope with how other girls are more attractive than me and it’s natural for him/her to be attracted to them). I don’t really look after myself, because again I fail to see the point. I am trying but it’ll be a long long road, especially when I have no idea where to start. Maybe, in a couple of years, I’ll look back at this blog and think “Wow, did I really think that about myself?”. Despite depression and anxiety, at least today I still have my optimism on that front.
Anyway, I somewhat hope you don’t relate but if you did, you’re not alone. You are never alone in any struggle, I promise you that.