Dear reader,
This is not one of my dorky, average posts. This post is going to be personal. The pictures you will see are my personal pictures... of me. Me, my family, my history.
Lately, I have seen, and read, a lot of blog posts about positive body image, and it doesn't sit right with me. Don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled that there are people out there trying to convince individuals it's alright to be how you look. What doesn't sit right is: the posts are all written by adults over twenty. I haven't read one written by a teenager, or young adult. And, I'm not sure how many of them went through what causes such self-conscious, self-destructive thoughts.
I'm not writing this- I'm not telling you my story- for a pity party or any of the sort. I don't want that.
I'm writing this- I'm telling my story- to tell these girls and boys that it gets better. That it IS okay not to have a million friends, to not be popular. It is NOT okay to hate yourself. Because, trust me, it is more destructive than a bulldozer taking down a porter potty.
This is a picture of me before my senior year (which I just completed.):
I can say I was average. Moderately bullied, liked by my teachers, either stood out in my class or blended into the walls of the class. Here's an example: I was a junior in a class of seniors (Bio II- not required, but intriguing.) I'm completely nervous surrounded by predominately seniors, yet I can dissect a cow's eye when the star football athlete squealed like a little girl when he got squirted by vitreous fluids (which, admittedly,
would be gross, but is still funny to tell the family), tell that it has cataracts when it wasn't asked, and can name more bones in the human body off of the top of my mind than the teacher could. Oh, yes, I stuck out like a sore thumb, and was ignored, thought
really weird, for it.
Here's another example: Algebra II- a predominately junior class, a very hard class to someone who didn't have a clue on what they were doing. I blended in with the off white brick wall better than ever, sat in the back, and didn't answer unless I was called on- which was rare. The teacher and I were cool with each other. Though I stayed in his class, he always told me I needed to be in this honors or AP class. "Because I want one student who listens to me." He told me one day after I asked why he never transferred me into a more challenging class if he knew I could handle it. "I'm selfish for it, I know. But, you are one of my best students, and I want to keep that." I guess it's a good thing I was on his good side, a teacher's pet of sorts, because I would have gotten in trouble A LOT. It also helps I told him from week one I don't have a tolerance for stupidity.
My Junior year was too simple, though most say it is your hardest year. Of course, SAT's stressed me to the maximum, just like any one else. But it was one year where I had some achievements where I didn't struggle to get. I had a boyfriend, great friends, a somewhat social life, and the bullying had stopped. Everything looked up, or so I thought. (I have always wanted to say "...or so I thought." in something, just because it is so cliché.)
Here's a picture of my Junior Ring Dance and Prom:
I have said before that I was "average." Average is such a deplorable word. It's a word that we tend to use to try and feel good about ourselves. (Unique is another word we tend to use to defend ourselves.) When, in reality, we are all odd. Again, don't misconstrue what I am saying. It'll make sense in the long run (Or not at all. I don't know how you think.)
I did not say that I was in the group of outcasts in high school, or that I tried so desperately to make friends. I didn't say that it actually ate away at my being that I was a nobody. I didn't say the truly personal things, but gave a sweet, brief description of my junior year. You know, the year that looked up?
I can tell you all the sweet, little tidbits that I used to make myself feel better- how I compensated with my intellectual talents rather than
trying not to worry about climbing the social ladder- but this isn't about
trying or
wanting, it's about
what really happens. For me to tell you about a self-positive image, you need to understand what it's like to have a self-destructive image. This is what a self-destructive image would look like:
Here's what it feels like: it's like your body is caving in and crumbling in on itself; like your dieing while living; like you have no control over yourself; like you are just a walking shell of who you used to be.
I would know; I was there.
My freshmen year, I had my first toxic relationship, which bled its way into early sophomore year. After I mustered up the courage (believe me, it took everything to finally understand the severity of the situation), I faced what felt like the end of my world. It wasn't the break up. No- that was simple. Like ripping off a Band-Aid on a wound that still bled. The issue came with the rumors, and lies, and horrible feelings that came afterwards. I was told, "Why don't you just write yourself a suicide note, and die?" by someone who was supposed to be one of my best friends. My other "friends" blamed me. It was constant for months with the stares and whispers and lies. (There is a part to this that is way too personal to put in.)
Then it stopped, and I moved on, or thought I moved on. My grades improved. I was ready to face the world.
People don't usually think of bullying happening in relationships. But it does. It's called emotional/mental abuse. Every little thing can set off your abuser- how you look, how you act, even what you likes and hobbies are. In my opinion, it's as bad as the other abuse types.
I can tell you it's easy getting over toxic people, but then I'd be lieing. It nearly killed me. Even two years later, I'm still dealing with what happened.
Some days it feels like I've crawled in a hole, like I don't deserve anything that I have. It feels like everything that I am is done, like I'm slowly suffocating. There's this horrible anxiety pain in my chest, and I think I'm dieing, and I sometimes gets so flustered that I can hardly talk and I shake and I cry. There are just days where there is nothing I can do but lay in bed and read or watch
Doctor Who or
House. It's what my doctor calls the onset of depression, but not quite there.
There is a reason you need to know what it's like to be self-destructive. To know what it's like to not know whether you want to live in this world. To know what it's like to just feel like empty.
Here is what self positivity looks like:
Self-positivity is a great thing. It takes a while getting from horribly self-destructive to thinking good about yourself. It's also not easy. It's looking in the mirror after taking a shower in the morning, and saying, "You are beautiful." It's wearing the make up if you feel better. (I wear eyeliner out because it makes me feel better about myself.) It's working towards a goal, because YOU want to.
I won't lie to you. I'm not so self-positive. But I'm also not as self-destructive anymore. Because I know how it sits on a person. I have what is called Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Myoclonic Seizures, a conversion disorder, caused from suppressing my feelings and stressing out too much. I will possibly have this underlying disorder for a while, and will have to monitor my stress levels to keep from having seizures.
When I was diagnosed, I had no friends. I didn't get to go to school (which to some seems like heaven, but when you loved school, it can be very depressing.) People stared, and, I will admit, it bothered me.
A lot. I mean, I had a hard time holding my pencil steady to do chemistry formulas at first. It lead to me becoming depressed, self-destructive.
I am this way because I was not accepting, didn't get the help I needed. I was very self-destructive in a subtle way.
What do I do to help from falling in a deep well again? For me, I pray. I read. I paint and pastel and draw. I watch
Doctor Who and
House. I take time myself when I think I need it. I hang out with my cousin. And I try. That's really what it is all about when you are so used to feeling negative. You surround yourself with the positive- which, for me, happens to be my family- and the things you love.
No one can tell you to be positive about yourself. Only you can make that decision. But, let me tell you. It feels
so good to have the positive.
It's a gift to be alive.
It is perfectly fine to have a hard time. I still have a hard time. But, what ever you do, do NOT let anyone make you think you aren't worth living. You are. You were put here on this earth for a reason. Sometimes it's to just become a house wife. Sometimes it's to be a scientist who will cure cancer. Or, if you're like me, it's to be a teacher. In some way, shape, or form, we all change a life. But, we can't do that if we aren't here, can we?
Surround yourself with the positive, find what is making you self-destructive (and stay away from it), and, then, find what makes you happy (and surround yourself in it.)
Again, I did not write this for a pity party. I wrote this for those who don't know that there is another way, because there is. I wrote this so those will know what it's like to struggle with your image. I wrote this, not to change a life, but in hope to influence one.
-From someone who really understands
