Why would we want to live a life where we constantly hate ourselves? Why would we want to live in a world where we are never good enough for ourselves? It’s time that you pick yourself up and love your self! I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, because no, it won’t be. If it was easy, we would just do it. Hating ourselves is easy. Constantly comparing ourselves to others is easy.
I’ll be honest, I have NEVER considered myself as a pretty girl. I actually had hair down to my chin in 6th grade and older kids would walk buy and say “I thought that was a boy!” Later on, I had a coworker that always said I had a boy face. I would laugh it off or just call her mean as I chuckled. Sometimes it really tore me down, other times I didn’t give a shit because I rather look like a boy than be as rude as she was.
Another insecurity of mine is that I think once you get to know me, you won’t like me. At least that seems to have been the theme when I was little.
When I had all of my neighborhood friends, my family made okay money. It was enough to where if I wanted a RipStik I could just go get one. I also grew up in a family where we pick on each other. So my sense of humor I guess could be confusing to some people. I was also always told I was mature for my age, while I don’t always see it, I would say it’s because I was the youngest by 6 years so I was constantly surrounded by older people. So when the neighborhood kids decided to treat me like the bad guy one day, and ignore me, and tell me I couldn’t come over or hang out with them, that hurt. It was after my fourth grade boy friend broke up with me. Suddenly I was the bad guy. Truthfully, that stuck with me for a while. I thought it was because I was the spoiled and mean girl, but I wasn’t a spoiled and mean girl. I don’t think so. But either way, they didn’t have to be assholes. I guess sometimes as kids we don’t realize how harsh we’re being.
Anyways, when I went into middle school I had a friend who would randomly get mad at me for things that never even happened. She just liked drama so if she wanted to be mad at me that meant I didn’t have a friend in that class. Side note: In sixth grade our class took every subject together. We didn’t have classes with different kids, yet. Eventually I made more friends, and all was good. If that friend wanted to get mad, it didn’t matter, I had other friends. The new friend I made I still have love for. We’ll call her Sally. She got my humor, she treated me SO special. In seventh grade we were so close and we had two more friends in our group. One I’m still friends with to this day. We’ll call that friend Suzy, and the the third friend we’ll call Skylar. I think sometimes Sally could be harsh, but I loved her anyways. Sally was particularly harsh to Suzy. But, Suzy was quiet and I was also super close to Suzy since we had every class together in seventh grade. But Sally was starting to drive me crazy, she would just really tear Suzy down and for some reason I associated Skylar with it. Therefore, I cut them off for a while. Them being Sally and Skylar. It was silly middle school drama, to be honest. I regretted that because in eight grade I ended up being the one out of the group. Sally, Suzy, and Skylar were all best friends, and then there was me. I was still friends with Suzy, but it wasn’t the same. I had other friends, but even more people were being mean. This one kid in my class said the only nice feature I have on my face are my eyes. To this day, I hear that. When someone says I have pretty eyes, I tend to think that’s the only nice feature I have.
In eight grade I also met my “first-love.” You know, the one that you think you love so much but you don’t. It’s not that I didn’t, it’s just that compared to now, that love was nothing.
I went into high school really depressed and in this on and off relationship with this person who was toxic for me. Our relationship was shitty, but he was all I had. If you read my last post, you would know that in the beginning of my freshman year my parents divorced and I was now in two households. A new house, and the house I grew up in. So, ninth grade was really lonely and hard. I had one good friend, and I’m thankful for her. We would remain close until high school ended.
Anyways, my boyfriend at the time and I broke up and I had this amazing time of self-growth where I finally felt good about myself.
During my sophomore year I made a really cool group of friends. I had my friend, Suzy and my other friend. But Suzy and I weren’t close anymore. But I was close to our other friend. I had a group of friends who threw a surprise party for my birthday. Guys, I felt SO loved. Eventually, a certain ex came back into my life and we continued that on and off situation. Which wasn’t my choice. He decided when we were on and when we were off. At the same time I started playing lacrosse, which I HATED. I stayed in touch with all my friends through the summer. Even through eleventh grade!
Woo hoo, I finally had friends who stayed!
In my junior year my ex and I were on, for like, 5 months? I’m not sure. That was probably our longest streak. It was actually pretty healthy, we both grew up a little more. But then, at the end of junior year, we were over, and soon so were my friendships. As the summer going into senior year went by, some of my friends responded to my invitations, and others could never make it. I went to my friend’s birthday party at the beach and met some new people. I found out that my friend group were all going to another party the next night and I was the only one not invited. I should also mention junior year, Suzy and I became close again, she’s not a bad person, we just lost touch in the first two years. Anyways, I felt SO betrayed and hurt. I just hid it. Going into senior year I basically only had a few friends, not the friend group anymore. But, whatever. I just didn’t care anymore, it was senior year and I didn’t think I’d talk to these people out of high-school because we were going to different schools.
Senior year I was finally enough for people. Senior year I started dating my current boyfriend, Soren. We have been inseparable since. He is probably the only person who isn’t my blood who really knows me. I made a lot of great friends in high-school, although we don’t talk now. We just moved on in life, so there’s no bad blood with those people.
I wish it ended there. Senior year meant we had to plan for senior week. My friends who would party without me actually invited me. I decided not to go because I’m a home body and I had a boyfriend who already did that high school stuff (Soren is a few years older than me.) He didn’t mind if I went, but I didn’t want to go without him and I knew it wouldn’t be fun for him. Also, I didn’t have the money to pitch into the house. But then, I asked if I could come for a few days, and they said yeah! Great! Except, they never actually talked to me about it after that, and all my closest friends went to senior week and became best friends. This led to them doing everything with each other and without me. It meant my two separate friend groups were one, which was great, except I wasn’t part of it. That sucked. It made me sad for a couple of years because I would constantly wonder what was wrong with me. Did they not like me for some reason? I don’t know.
Today, I don’t care. I still feel hurt, but I had to unfollow them because I was tired of seeing all my “friends” together without me. If it happened before high school, I’m not mad about it and I don’t think any of those old friends are bad people. I just think kids can be really harsh without thinking of the consequences.
To my friends from my job as a cashier and my friends who would come to my summer parties after senior year, and those who came to my graduation party. Thank you. Thank you for letting me know you care. Thank you for making an effort. You did something that all those others couldn’t. You made an effort.
I was always the one to make an effort for so long, and those people who didn’t make an effort are no longer in my life. Now, I have people who return the effort. I have people who care about me and my feelings.
The point of this story, is that I have insecurities. I feel ugly sometimes, I feel chubby sometimes, I feel unwanted sometimes. I wanted to share WHY I feel these things. I even wrote in my notes that I wish I was pretty. That was only a couple of days ago. The words of those people hurt me and the actions did, too.
My next blog I will share how I’m fighting these insecurities. I also want you to take something from this, and it’s to be nice. Please, be nice.