I’m The Girl Who Hates Her Body

Growing up, I always hated how I looked. I hated my brown, wavy hair. I hated how my thighs touched. I hated how big I was compared to the other girls my age. I hated my buck teeth.

As I got older, I was told I had a big ass, that my boobs were too small, that my teeth were too crooked, that I had a gut, and worst of all… that I was just ugly.

My mom and dad always told me, “Honey, you look beautiful,” but that seemed like just noise to me. I knew they genuinely believed I was, but I didn’t. Parents are supposed to say that, right? I wanted boys to think I was beautiful. I wanted girls to accept me and look up to me because I was beautiful. Most importantly, I wanted to FEEL beautiful.

I resorted to starving myself when I was 14 or 15. More recently I’ve started purging. I am disrespecting my body. I’m telling it that it’s not worthy of love from even myself. By making it do things that it doesn’t want to do or even need to do.

I hate my body. Isn’t that screwed up? I was created to look like, well, ME. So, why do I feel ashamed to look the way I do?

I browse through the Instagram popular page and soon find myself stalking the most beautiful models on the internet – bronze, skinny, gorgeous women. I find myself longing to look like that, to want people to want to look like me. I find myself feeling sick to my stomach knowing I’ll never be perfect like the models I stalk on Instagram or the women who compete for a man’s heart on the Bachelor or earn affection from 30+ men on the Bachelorette.

All of this bullshit used to make me pity myself, now it pisses me off.

Why on earth should I feel bad about how I look because a bunch of people I don’t know on social media say that I SHOULD look like this. Why should I feel ashamed of myself? Why do I feel the need to hide my body away from others and wear huge t-shirts?

Something needs to be done.

I want to feel proud of what I look like. Slowly, I’ve learned to love my brown, wavy hair. I miss the freckles that used to bridge over my nose. I like my tanned skin

When you look at it with tunnel vision, it seems like a black hole that you could never return from. You’re just immersed in self-loathing and the desire to look like something you’re not. I learned to look at the big picture.

I am me. No one else can say they’re me. I love writing, singing, shopping online and buying things I don’t need. Sure lots of people engage in those activities, but it doesn’t fully encompass who they are. My body is a piece of me. I need to learn to treat it better.

One day you’re going to wake up and realize that you need to love your body. You will never truly allow someone else to until you do.


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