Underneath my jacket there are uncut wrists, yet the sleeves are still pulled down, constantly stretching and wearing it out. Hidden underneath are insecurities that cannot wash away even in the hottest of showers. In a world filled with pictures of the 'ideal' person, I feel ugly inside and choose to hide myself away in my own world, one that covers up and listens to music non-stop and an escape. Sometimes my best friends will ask if I'm okay, and I reply that I'm just focusing on school work, staring intently at my laptop. In reality, I sometimes question why these amazing people wanted to become best friends with me. Why me? Of all the attractive, funnier, smarter, wiser people to be friends with, you chose me?
In high school, I had many friends (with the exception of the topic of my last article). Yet, I could still find a way to be sad and alone. I started high school as a short, chubby, glasses and brace-faced, acne covered child. Walking down the halls were beautiful people. In middle school I didn't care what I looked like, I was there to do my schoolwork and eat unhealthy snacks when I went home. Even now in college, there are so many beautiful people and then there's me. 'I am going to make a change in my life,' I told myself within the first few weeks of high school. I made a mental list, and the first was to lose weight.
Over some magical force of nature, I found the coach of the Cross Country team and she asked me if I ran or liked to run. I lied to her as a person who did not run, and I took up the sport. I was slow. One of our practices we ran the race and I came in at 40 minutes. Within a few months I dropped to 27 minutes. Running became a fun and great stress reliever. During this time, I had my growth spurt. By the end of the season, we would run six or eight or ten miles as a practice. However, I was never thin enough in my eyes. My friends (that were girls) would say they'd want my stomach because I was thin and toned, one even wanted my hips, but when I looked down I saw fat. I would go on periods of starving myself or cutting out a few meals a day. I have never looked thin in my eyes, even today, but I can say I am happier now than when I was ten pounds lighter and in the underweight range of my Body Mass Index (BMI).
As far as glasses and acne covered, I still wear glasses and I still have some acne (not as much as I used to though). I begged for contacts and when we went, I had an easy time putting them in but a hard time taking them out. With the trial, we were going to our grandparents that week and something about trying to be eye safe and sanitary in the mountains of Pennsylvania country was not a good mix. For acne, I don't even want to start. Acne wipes, face washed, pills, even a dermatologist and still, here I am with acne. The funny thing is, I see people who have it worse than me but they are still better looking. Now in college, my friends are putting makeup on me and I do love the look, but when I wipe it away at night I am reminded that I am ugly with body image issues.
For braces, I would brush, floss, and wear the rubber bands in my mouth when the time came for them. February of freshman year they came off and I was free to smile across the school, but what was there to smile about? In my head I wasn't thin enough. I went from Cross Country to taking up track as well. A year long workout to stay thin. In my eyes it didn't work because I was still single and therefore gross in my eyes. Other people were happy in relationships and I didn't even get a cat till junior year (appropriately names Jingles because his collar had a bell that would always jungle in his adventures around the house).
Since I deemed myself hurtful words like fat, ugly, and gross, other words seemed to follow: stupid, dumb ass, worthless, hated. I would always wear my jacket, hiding all these insecurities as best I could... it never worked. Even today, I sit in my jacket, sleeves down, hiding different things I have made up as ugly: shave chest hair, arms to thin, always shave face, hide your depression, practice fake laugh, practice fake smile, stitch yourself up, stay in your room.
There are more details to this story hidden in my timeline, like my first boyfriend, where we lived during this time, and me being dumb by falling in live with my best friend (who apparently is not gay, although my head is telling me something else). Many demons we fight our external, but a lot of mine became internal. Although I fight and argue with my best friends (along with myself), just reading a text saying "I love you" gives me the energy to stop fake smiles and let real ones show. I know there are others out there who have gone through worse, who hide under the jacket but have scars underneath, or those that are always in jeans who sit on scars or place them in their lap. Love these people along with everyone else, including yourself.
