Stop Picking on Us.

If you don't love me for who I am, you are a waste of time.
 Don't pick me apart for not meeting your selfish standards.
If I don't meet them, walk away.
It's one thing to point out legitimate flaws- to tell me that I need to love myself more or that I need to think more positively.
But to tell me I'm too thin, too pale, that my skin isn't good enough, that I'm not exactly what you want...there's no good reason.
You are looking for a perfection that will never exist and pressuring me to fit a visual mold my body is simply not meant to fit.
That's precisely one reason why some of us pick; we are constantly told we are not good enough.
It causes an inner anxiety, mostly when those who say such things are people we love and trust.
Stop picking on us.
We do it enough ourselves.
We don't need your bullshit.
We don't need to look in the mirror and have your words echoing in our already conflicted minds:
"Too thin. Too pale. I want a girl with beautiful skin. I bet there are prettier girls out there than nag less than you do. Your skin is a turn-off."
How about this:
How about you look at the heart of the person you're dealing with.
Because when it comes to that, I guarantee you that I'm a vision of perfection.
I believe that on average, pickers love so selflessly that we forget to love ourselves sometimes.
And when you rain on our parades with your bullshit and negativity and pick us apart, you only help to squash any of the self-love we have developed.
Don't treat us like shit and act like an asshole and then wonder why it triggers our OCD response.
Don't mistake my attention to my skin for self-harm.
For some, it may be that way, but for others, we look at your skin and have just as much of an urge to "fix" yours as we do ours.
Make the effort to understand.
And if you're not willing to make that effort, stop fucking whining about picking.
Educate yourself.
But overall, treat us with the softness that we sometimes fail to treat ourselves with.

Anger

Tonight I struggle with anger. The anger of working hard for the things I want…yet having them still just out of my reach.  My good grades aren’t even satisfying. I would rather have all Cs and have the things that truly mattered to my heart. A grade is just a silly letter anyhow. I’m tired. Tired of missing people and wondering if they care enough about me to ease that pain with their presence. I’m tired of the struggles inside. Of looking at my skin and knowing I’m doing better, but still feeling like it’s not good enough because I still have to think about not touching it. I want it to be automatic. I want everything to flow naturally. I’m tired of working for insufficient pay; of trying hard and holding on to the good while letting go of the bad, and still finding no relief. Tonight I will go to bed early and dream of things I will wake up only to miss again.