When you look in the mirror, what do you think about?
Do you think about how great your eyebrows look or how poppin’ your highlight is? Do you embrace yourself, praise yourself and appreciate yourself?
Or do you stare back at your reflection in pain?
When I look in the mirror, I can see every single flaw. I notice the single eyebrow hair out of place and the acne scars on my forehead. I fixate on the blackheads on my nose and the dark circles under my eyes.
No matter what I do, I am never happy with the girl that’s looking back at me.
I know I should be happy with myself, but for some reason, I just can’t be.
Body positivity has been such a big movement recently, but I never mind myself wanting to join in. I feel like it’s just a movement full of skinny and fit girls trying to make themselves feel better.
I’m not technically fat. My clothes aren’t plus-sized. I am smaller than the average-sized woman, but I always feel like a walrus when I try on clothes at places like Forever 21 or American Eagle.
I think that my lack of confidence stems from being bullied throughout my entire childhood. I was always the tallest kid in my class, and I was extremely muscular because I did Taekwondo.
Between second and eighth grade, I was always labeled as “fat” even though there were people bigger than me.
There were some especially mean boys that lived in my neighborhood. They made fun of me relentlessly. I was taller than all of them, so they called me a giant. They called me fat.
I had some acne, so they called me “pizza face.” They made fun of me for having hair on my arms and legs.
I couldn’t control all of the things they bullied me about.
If I had the choice, I wouldn’t have had my growth spurt between third and fourth grade. I was 5’2” by the time I was 10 years old. Thankfully, I haven’t grown since then.
Even after I was put on Accutane in sixth grade and my acne disappeared, I was still “pizza face.” Even after they had their growth spurts and were taller than me, I was still “giant.”
Once I got to high school, the bullying stopped. Well, the bullying stopped to my face at least.
But it was too late.
The self-confidence issues were already ingrained in my mind.
Every time I tried on a crop top, I would hear somebody in my head telling me my stomach was too fat.
Every time I wore a dress, I heard somebody yelling that my legs looked like tree trunks.
Thankfully, I have amazing and supportive friends now. They try to make me realize that I’m beautiful, but I simply don’t see it.
After a decade of bullying, I think I’m just too broken.
Don’t be like me. Please realize that you are beautiful and kind and worth it, no matter who you are.
And don’t forget that what matters the most is what’s on the inside.
