Why Am I Like This?

Why am I like this? Why do I want to change everything? My hair, my clothes, my body shape, everything; I want it all to be different. I hate what I see when I look in the mirror.

I started to avoid the mirror as much as I could. I hated what I seen. I didn't want to be in pictures, because most of the time it was an unflattering angle of me. No matter how many times someone told me I was pretty, beautiful, etcetera, I still didn't believe them. I never saw what they saw. I always made the joke they were blind, even though I was always the one that had to wear glasses and they had perfect vision😅.

I constantly compared myself to how others looked. I would wish I was as skinny as they were. I would wish my skin was as clear as theirs. I would wish my hair would fall like theirs. I never felt good enough. It didn't help when others would chime in on my insecurities as well.

Let's be honest here. I'm not small. I never have been. I've always been on the heavier side, no matter what changes I did to my eating habits. From elementary to high school, I was always picked on for my weight and my acne as well. My momma tried everything she could when I was younger to find out why I was gaining weight the way I was. I wasn't over eating. I wasn't constantly eating junk. At the time, all I pretty much drank was water. We couldn't figure it out. The docs tested my thyroid, but everything was normal.

My freshman year, I wasn't at my heaviest, but I was pretty up there. I'm not going to say numbers because they still make me want to cry. I constantly hid under baggy clothes and jackets. No matter what the temperature was outside, I stayed in a long sleeve jacket. There were other reasons for that too, but I'll get to that in another blog post.

My sophomore year, I had dropped a lot of weight. I had almost stopped eating completely. I just didn't want food. Honestly, I didn't want anything. I stayed in my room and slept most of my life away that year. Well I tried too at least. I talked to a few people, but all I wanted was to hide. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't want to be heard. I hated being called on in class. I hated having to do presentations. I hated everything that made everyone's focus turn to me. That actually started when I was younger. Probably elementary school is when it started.

My junior year, I was eating a little bit more, but it was still very miniscule. At this new school, though, I had friends who were making me eat. Well not necessarily making me eat, but making sure I ate. By this point, I would honestly forget to eat. My body had become so accustomed to going without food, that I didn't even think about it anymore. When I would think about it, it would be, "Oh shit, when was the last time I ate?" I honestly wouldn't have an answer.

My senior year, I was at my heaviest or so I thought. I started working at a fast food place over the summer, and that's honestly where I ate most of the time. I would go to school, work, then home. I would get home so late and still have homework to do on top of needing to eat. I had a little bit of my confidence back, because most of my weight was in decent places, not just my stomach. By the end of the year though, that's where the weight moved too. During the middle of the school year, I transferred back to my old high school, and I was no longer working, so my weight just kind of kept going up. I wasn't running it off like I had been before.

After I graduated, I moved halfway across the states to Texas. I didn't exactly know what my weight was at first. I honestly didn't think it was that bad, but once I bought a scale and seen that number, I busted into tears. This was the most I had ever been. I started to revert back into old habits of not wanting to eat and wanting to sleep all day. This was hard to do beings I was working. I couldn't sleep all day, which made it hard to avoid food.

I already had stretch marks from my rapid weight gain and loss. My body was ruined right? I didn't have kids, but I sure had stretch marks like I did. Now don't get me wrong, they are not as bad as I am making them sound, but you have to remember I was still a teenager at this time. I was barely nineteen, so I thought it was the worst thing ever. I hid my body constantly. I didn't want to wear a bathing suit, but if I did, I either left my shirt on or I had a long top.

Here I am, now, at twenty-three years old, and I am still struggling. I now have two beautiful little ones who I know are watching me, but I am still struggling to love myself. There's a saying out there, "You can't fully love someone, until you love yourself," and I am just going to say that is complete bull shit. I love my children more than anything, but I am still learning how to love myself. I am still learning how to be properly loved by someone. I guess that's the main thing. I am still learning.

I don't want my little girl growing up thinking it's okay to feel like this. I want her to be full of confidence. I don't want her to let someone tear her down because she is gorgeous. She deserves to know that. I tell her every day how beautiful I think she is, but I know one day someone is going to be mean and try to tell her she's not. I want her to be able to look at them and it not phase her one bit. So, why can't I gain this confidence that I want for her? Why can't I show her how to be this confident?

I am struggling. I just want to be able to look myself in the mirror and actually think something positive. I want to see all the flaws, and not be discouraged by them. I want to see them and be proud of them because they are what made me who I am. Those imperfections have carried two beautiful babies and one beautiful soul. So, why can't I love them? Why do I dislike them so much?

I am always one to uplift someone else, but I cannot uplift myself. Even when others compliment me, yes, I thank them, but I absolutely do not see what they see. I see every line from exhaustion. I see every blackhead and pimple. I see the dark circles under my eyes. I see the oil in my hair even though I just washed it. I see the extra skin from having kids. I see it all. It makes me wonder if people are being genuine or not. If I can see all of that, I know they definitely can.

I'm not saying I want to be a beauty queen. I'm not saying I want to be a model. I just want to be able to love myself and not think someone is being an asshole when they say something nice. I just want to be able to accept a compliment and not think someone has a hidden agenda behind it.

I know a lot of my friends struggle with this too. I know some of my family struggles with this. It's not fun. I promise we are not phishing for more compliments; we just honestly don't see what you are seeing. We struggle and fight to look what we think is our best. We struggle to look "pretty enough" for ourselves. There are some days I get dressed and then completely go back into sweatpants and a T-shirt because I didn't like the way the clothes fit on me.

I want to be better. For myself. For my relationship. For my kids. I want them to see that mommy has a great self-image and they should too. I want to be able to accept the compliments my boyfriend gives me without arguing that I'm not what he sees. I just don't know how too. I don't know how to rewire my brain to not be this way. Where would I even start? How would I just flip the switch that stops my brain from reacting negatively? I honestly don't ever see that happening, but here's to hopeful wishing!

Let's stop tearing people down for how they look. We can't control our body type. We can't control what type of acne we get. We can't control some of the features we have. While yes, we can change some of these things, why can't we learn to love the body we have without making "improvements"? I am guilty of this too, but let's stop letting society tell us what is beautiful and figure it out for ourselves.

Here is to no longer letting someone decide how I feel about myself. Here is to no longer wanting the approval of someone else. Here is to me learning to love myself. I hope you can learn to love yourself as well. Accept all your flaws, and see the beauty in them.

This is me. I'm weird. I'm quirky. In all honesty, I'm a mess, but I'm ready to embrace all of it.