The Hard Stuff to Write Part One
I’ve felt like a lot of my life growing up was just me being yelled at, over nothing. It seemed like I was just and easy target to pick on and to take one’s anger out on. Maybe it was because I’ve always been to scared to fight back or that I believe that everyone has a right to be upset or it’s the facts which are that I’m overweight, that I like weird things and that it’s easy for me to accidentally say the wrong things. I felt like I had to hide who I was and felt as though I just shouldn’t speak up because it seemed pointless. My thoughts, opinions, and ideas were always just wrong, the end. Those led me to self hate.
This childhood was how I got into a deep state of hate towards myself and others. I found it easier to dislike how I looked (weight, hair, eyes, smile),what I thought and I truly hated myself. I’ve always know that I internalize everything so I just presented I was always okay, but living a life of just being okay and hating yourself did not help me in getting better. I knew that I couldn’t just sit around blaming one person for these things I had to start to feel better but it’s much easier written down then actually done. All around me I’d see these people who had caring loving families but all I wanted to do was hid from parts of mine, trying to become better while watching everyone else be happy was hard.
I’d look to those people who have caring dads who wanted to go to their kids band concerts and stood there supporting their kids dreams and I was so envious of them. It felt like I had this gigantic hole in my soul, just because I was never fully loved/accepted/supported by the person I called “dad”. Rather than looking to the people who were there supporting me like my mom, I just stayed in this “my life is so terrible phase”. Granted my life wasn’t necessarily rainbows and glitter but there were plenty of glittery rainbow moments. Those moments where were I’d just be able to be myself and laugh a lot, where I felt free.
Those were the moments I eventually clung to and still do when I fall back into those self hate patterns. Allowing myself to feel accepted and loved by myself was probably the hardest and best choice I could’ve ever made. I had times now where is just as hard as it first was but I choose to not give up and push on. I continue to accept myself for all my so called “flaws”. Acceptance is extremely important to me whether it’s for me to accept myself or if it’s me accepting that I can’t change how someone feels about me or that yes people have said terrible things to and about me. Those words don’t mean that’s who I am or have to be.
In accepting myself I understand that I’m wonderful, beautiful, and caring. It’s given me freedom to be myself and not to feel shame. I used to feel shame over liking a nerdy show or for eating that third slice of pizza (lol). I enjoy who I am. Especially because of what I’ve been through. It was Freaking tough but in the end I’m grateful and happy that I’ve become the person I am.