How I Learned to Hate Myself, and How That Turned Into Hating Others

I first cut myself when I was just 11 years old. A terrifying thought to many parents, and a deeply saddening thought to me as I look to my nieces who are the same age. I remember the built up self-hatred I felt, and the immediate relief that came after.

I’ve been bullied all my life. As early as I can remember, I have always felt less than.

From always seeming to be two steps behind in social interactions, to bullies picking apart my looks, it all started to instill a deep shame inside me, coupled with pure resentment.

It was…. scary to be 7 years old and praying to God that I’d wake up as somebody else- or just not at all. I started taking other people’s opinions as fact, a dangerous hole to fall into. I truly believed the things others said about me- I knew my worth, and I knew it was nothing.

As the years went on I developed anorexia, continued to self harm, and it all only skyrocketed once I hit puberty. As a trans guy, puberty was my worst nightmare. All of a sudden my body started changing in the wrong ways, while my brain stayed the same. I felt like my body wasn’t mine- it just didn’t feel right, and without the proper knowledge or terms for that, I just thought something was wrong with me. I didn’t know being trans was even a thing, let alone a community.

I loathed my body, my brain, my being. I hated everything about myself. This only worsened when I first tried to go back to school after being homeschooled for a year.

I remember stepping foot into the school and just- being overwhelmed with such an intense flight response that it made me dizzy.

As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t get through the day. I’m privileged enough to have had the option to remain homeschooled, but I still hated myself for it.

Why couldn’t I just ‘suck it up’? Why couldn’t I just be ‘normal’?

These thoughts were constantly overwhelming me, to the point of attempting suicide.

So, what changed?

My mindset started to take a shift when I entered a toxic relationship at the ripe age of only 13. We became an echo chamber of blaming others for our faults and never acknowledged our own wrongs. I became livid at the way others had treated me. It wasn’t fair, I was too young, I didn’t deserve it.

While all being true and valid points, I started to resent those who had the opportunities I didn’t.

I started to resent those who didn’t have crippling social anxiety and threw up every time they left the house.

I started to resent those who didn’t have C-PTSD, who never had to worry about night terrors and waking up yelling.

I started to resent those who had never looked at a food and seen a number instead.

I started to resent those with skin free of scars.

I started to hate everyone else, and in turn, hated myself more.

I thought the solution was to hurt the way I’d been hurt, instead of help others the ways I needed.

I turned into the living version of who I never wanted to be, and I resented myself for it. I hated that the same face that used to be bruised now held cold eyes.

I learned to hate the world as self defense, and in turn, made the world hate me more, continuing the endless cycle of shame.

What did I do?

I realized who I was becoming when I was 14 years old. I was sitting with one of my nieces (aged 9 at the time) when she got really quiet.

“I can tell you have a question, go on ask it. It’s only awkward if you make it.” I lightheartedly encouraged her. She looked at my self harm scars and gently touched them.

“Why do you hurt yourself?”

I froze. Of all the questions she could’ve asked, this was not the one I was anticipating. How honest should I be? Should I play it off as a joke? Do I even answer? Questions flooded my head. I wanted to be sensitive of her age while also giving her information that could make her feel less alone.

“Well…. a lot of people were really, really mean to me and I didn’t like myself very much so I.. hurt myself because I thought it would fix it.”

She pondered over my answer for a few minutes as we sat in comfortable silence. She looked me in the eyes and to this day I will never forget her words.

But isn’t that just doing what they do?

I tilted my head in consideration. I started to open my mouth in defense but the more I thought about it, the more truth I found it held.

The reason my self hatred had intensified wasn’t because of outside influence- I started behaving like those who hurt me with the excuse of ‘I’ve been hurt’.

I became so comfortable in this state of anger that I didn’t realize I was stuck.

Yes, it’s right to feel anger at your abusers and people who have wronged you- it’s totally normal. I’m not the kind of ‘forgive and forget’ person. I think there can be power in forgiveness, but I also think there can be power in anger.

The problem started when I started to resent others based on my own preconceived notions.

I expected pain, so I received pain.

Isn’t this just victim blaming?

Short answer, no. Long answer, I urge you to go back and reread what I just said. (No.)

I hate the stereotype of ‘hurt people hurt people’ but it can be true.

When you get in a state of such resentment, you hurt people whether it’s purposeful or not.

How did I shift perspectives?

I went from I don’t owe the world my kindness to the world needs it anyway.

I couldn’t truly love others while still hating myself. I didn’t know how love worked- and I’m still unlearning past traumas surrounding it- but I knew how hatred worked and for a long time, that was close enough.

A lot of people mistake hate as the opposite of love, but I view them as parallels.

Hate isn’t the absence of love, just like love isn’t the absence of hate.

I have hated people out of love for others, and I’ve loved people despite hating them. They can co-exist, and oftentimes do. (Another article on that soon.)

I’m still learning and growing, but the best thing I’ve ever done for my mental health is develop this mindset:

The world sucks, but it doesn’t have to suck for everyone.

Once I started loving others out of love for myself, instead of hating others as an act of ‘self love’, I started to become more comfortable in my skin. This didn’t make all my self hatred go away- don’t mistake this as me saying so. But it helped me realize that I was more than the circumstances of my past.