Hatred of Body and Self: Working on My Self-Love

I pray anyone who reads will take my words and apply any to their lives that seem suitable...in the hopes that I may help them while I try to help myself...

There are days I wake up and cry over how dissatisfying my reflection is. But not in the sense you might think. I don’t think I’m fat. I don’t think I need a dye job or rely on heavy eye makeup to get me through my day. In fact, I wear no makeup whatsoever for the most part. I like to let my skin breathe, and honestly, I just don’t have the time or desire to “put on my face” every morning. I cry over it because I see a girl who appears unhealthy, lazy, and looks like she lacks enough discipline to look as healthy and beautiful as she could, even though I know that some of the things that I’m upset about aren’t the way they are because of languor.

Naturally, my skin is the biggest reason I feel this way. No surprise there. Some of it comes from the media and social pressure, but only a small fraction. I couldn’t care less what some magazine article has to say about my appearance. Some of it comes from my own desires to look as beautiful on the outside as I sometimes feel on the inside. And some of it comes from a loved one.  It’s one thing for someone writing an article in a magazine to tell me I should look a certain way. I don’t know them, they don’t know me, and we don’t care about each other, so it’s easy to ignore. But when it’s someone who I know and trust, I really do internalize those messages. Now, this loved-one happens to be an addict, and I have read, heard, know, and understand that addicts often point out the flaws of other people in their lives to make them feel better about their own flaw of addiction- to, in their mind, bring the other person to their level by pointing out that they are not perfect either. It makes them feel more secure about themselves. So really, I should ignore and let go of the things this person says, as they are only practicing a natural response to their own issues. However, some of these things were already internalized before I realized why this person was behaving so.  I should also mention that this person spoke out about my physical appearance in the name of showing concern for my health. It wasn’t to try and kill my self-esteem; it was to get me to take action to improve my health. Unfortunately, it did more to my self-esteem. Yes, I know it was supposed to help. But each time this person would look at me and criticize the appearance based health concern, or each time I would complain about physical discomfort, this person always found a way to link it to an appearance-related flaw of mine.

When I look in the mirror, I see exaggerated versions of things this person has pointed out as flaws:

• ·         I see my crooked back and rounded shoulders, and it seems like no matter how tall and straight I try to stand, my shoulders look hunched over, and spine looks crooked and bulky. I look in the mirror and see hunchback, no matter my posture. I see ugliness, even though I know no one else probably notices anything unusual. I’ve been told that poor posture can lead to all kinds of issues, and I do take them into consideration, but I think that with my picking issue, I just ended up taking my loved-one’s advice as something else about my looks that I ought to be ashamed of.
• ·         I see my skin, of course. Before finding out that I had a legitimate problem causing me to treat my skin the way I did, many of my loved ones would get after me for my ‘bad habit”. They would make threats of what they would do if I didn’t stop. Some were empty, silly threats (like tying my hands behind my back), others were very serious (like booting me out of their life). Some of the criticism was made out of love, and some of it out of pure disgust. One loved one even told me I looked like a crack-addict and that they would slap the shit out of me if I didn’t knock it off. I’ve tried suggesting to my family that what I have may very well be a disorder, but they seem to shrug it off like I’m being a drama-queen and trying to avoid taking responsibility for my actions. But at least one loved one has apologized for “trivializing” my problem and not taking it as seriously as they should have.
• ·         I’ve had various comments from my addiction-suffering loved one about needing to exercise so my butt would be bigger and my body would be more toned. I’ve had comments about muscles in my legs being overdeveloped and looking bulky.  I’ve been told when I should be sleeping, what I should be doing, eating, thinking, feeling, and how big the bags under my eyes are. Again, I know all of this was supposed to make me think and improve my exercising and whatnot, and it was not to hurt me. But it did hurt.

Some of it wasn’t so much about my appearance as is it was my intelligence or maturity. 

 

I often hear comments about my age. How “if I was older I would understand/think differently/etc”.  I understand that being only 20, I have room to mature and change my mind- as I will for the rest of my life…as everyone on the planet does. But my comments and concerns are often discredited because of the number 20. Sometimes strangers don’t take me seriously because I simply look young…sometimes younger than I am. And I get what I would describe as “pat you on the head and pinch your cheek” kind of treatment – I get treated like some idiot middle-school kid. I’ve been picked on as being immature for chewing gum too much , for not liking sushi (raw fish isn’t my thing), for not knowing how to swim or for not knowing the difference between a salad fork and other forks (I’m sorry I didn’t grow up privileged).



I have taken these things too seriously in an effort to please the other person. I like to make people happy, and I often let that desire to please interfere with my boundaries and comfort zones. At one point, I told myself that it was all true. That being unable to swim made me childish and silly. That not liking sushi made me less of a grown woman. It's crazy what codependency with an alcoholic can do to the mind. But as least I knew better deep down, and have since dismissed those ideas as having any truth.

Ironically, this person who has called me childish for these types of things and says they sometimes feel like they have to be a parent to me is someone that I have had to play mother to many times when their addiction takes control. But they never see that. I’ve had to walk this person across the street after they stumbled in front of a car. I have had to tell them which way was home when they could not get there themselves. I’ve had to tell them not to make fun of a little girl for being chubby. I’ve had to take things away from them before they broke them. I have had to tell them as though they were 4 years old that it was bedtime and to be quiet so they didn’t wake other people. I have seen tantrums and bedwetting. But I never once (intentionally) discredited their words and feelings for not always having adult behavior, and I never intentionally belittled them for it. Yet for all of these responsibilities I have accepted, I’m called the child. I’m the one feeling belittled. I’m the one who is told I have yet to reach adulthood and maturity. And that downright frustrates me. But if you are reading this, and find that you are that person, know that I love you anyway and have faith you will heal.



I feel that my space to be an individual has been invaded by silly little demands that add up and eventually make me feel bad about myself. I don't have to like sushi. I don't have to be able to swim. That doesn't make me any less of a person, any less or more of an adult, or any less loving and beautiful. That makes me an individual. Individuality is a collection of things a person does and doesn't like, does and doesn't participate in, can and cannot do, what they do well or don't do well, as well as their personality.

I was reading a while ago about how those who suffer from Compulsive Skin Picking can often start or worsen their behavior when they feel that they have no control over their lives and feel “picked on” or bullied. I read that picking can often be the way the sufferer thinks they can practice some sort of control. And I’m sorry to say that I took the advice of this loved one that was supposed to be helpful, and I internalized that as being “picked on”, and sometimes I wonder if it’s a coincidence that some of my picking got worse in the face of these kinds of comments. I felt belittled and not cared for. And part of that is my own fault for the way I interpreted it, though I did try to say something about it. Perhaps this is a lesson for me to keep a more open mind when people say things about my appearance- that maybe it’s not really about my appearance at all in one way or another. It could just be them trying to help, or it could be their own flaws causing them to try and find mine so they feel better about themselves. Those aren’t excuses for some of the comments, but they are reasons. And reasons give me some kind of insight as to how serious I should or should not take those words.

I love this person anyway, and I know that as they recover from their own issues, they may very well change this behavior. But as with many things, I need to find the balance- the balance between being patient and taking shit from people to the point where my self-esteem plummets.

I am an individual. I am made up of my flaws and the things I excel at. I am made up of my loves and dislikes. And I need to love every part of that. The picking, the under-eye bags, the less-than-perfect butt. I need to set goals, make changes, and love myself while I transform and heal. I need to place myself before others. I need to learn when to say “fuck you”. I need to learn when to walk away and seek something better, and when to wait for better to arrive rather than walking.

Better is on its way.

For me.

For the one I love.

For all of my loved ones.

We will all heal.