But things happened. Time passed. In fourth grade I wore limited too leggings and read too many books and kids called me wierd. I decided right then that wierd was better than normal and took it as a compliment. They'd say angry things to me and I'd smile and say thanks. Sometimes I cried about it when nobody was looking.
Fast forward to middle school. I wore t-shirts that said "you laugh because I'm different, I laugh because you're all the same" and pants with inseams as large as I could find. Freaking people out was a daily drug. I fit in absolutely nowhere and had few real friends. In times of pain, I cut myself and wrote cliche poems about comitting suicide. Lets not even talk about kittie, coal chamber, papa roach, or Korn. please.
By early high school I had an eating disorder. Let me say one thing: if you love yourself, you do not have an eating disorder. I got my self-worth from how many people thought I was attractive, how many people I kissed that day, and how many girls I was skinnier than. Then a boy broke my heart for a girl who was fatter. I started reading beautiful poems and having goals and began to think, maybe, that hating yourself wasn't the way to go.
I had an acid trip where two girls ditched me to make out and I talked to my face as it melted in the mirror. My arms hugged my heart and breast and my lips said: you are all you need.
Somewhere along the way I learned to take a compliment. To just say thanks instead of "but... blah blah blah here are the ways you are wrong which you didn't notice but now I will point out to you."
But just last year, I sat with my friends Amy and Chelsea in a cabin by the woods having one of those serious late night talks about life when chelsea asked me abruptly:
All around me are talented, stunning, sweet, sexy people who are literally dripping with self-loathing. They blame themselves for things that go wrong and can't take a kind word to heart. They beat themselves down. They never feel comfortable, always unsure of how another person feels, if they look ok...
Here's what it is, girls and boys and everything in between-
if I fucked up, and we were friends, what would you do?
you only get to live once and you are your own greatest asset.
I am who I am. I fucking love who I am. And I'm not apologizing to anyone.
12 comments:
<3
Thank you.
lady, i love you.
I did it, i promised.
girls I love you too.
So, I'm not going to go into intense detail, but the similarities situation between you and I, and how we followed this path like this, are astounding. I loved reading this - and I'll tell you more about why over a glass of shiraz...
it's a deal, G.
to be discussed.
and you say it so eloquently into the bargain!
I could not agree more with everything you've said.
I'm glad you agree!
I never know if I should be allowed to rant about things with any validity at the age of twenty.
hm.
Bravo! I love this!
i am a b class stalker. i saw you once at a party someplace...and my what beautiful... everything. myspace leads to blog space... and now i've read your beautiful words. coming around to loving myself has been the best ride... i never wanna get off. everyone should feel this... it's magic.
thanks stephanie.
and madlux, i appreciate your honest =) It's been a crazy game of poker learning to love myself too, but you'd already know that.
Lets spread the love [shit, I sound like a hippie.]
thank you.
i love you immensely.
when i am dripping with self-loathing, i am my own best towel.
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