the searching. @kathleenmotoa - Tumblr Blog

“My body had been through a verbal war, and the words had won. I thought sadness and pain were beautiful because society said they were. So the bullying finally got to the most precious part of my body: my head, the thing that held my brain, which held so many lies I chose to believe.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“My famous nickname was “Casper the Friendly Ghost,” and let’s just say I didn’t get that nickname because I was nice.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“The bullying slowly reached my arms and upper thighs. But, here’s the plot twist, I didn’t hide what I had done to myself. I wanted the bullies to see. I wanted them to ask me about the marks. I wanted someone to ask me about them while we were having lunch together, doing homework at Barnes & Noble, or when we were hanging out at the mall as a group of friends. Someone. Anyone.

No one asked.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymoushttps://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“Trying to change my body didn’t solve any problems.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“My body wouldn’t be a teenage body if it didn’t have acne and some dry skin. Makeup did not help my case; it made my face look horrible. So I just let the bullies play connect the dots with my face.

Not only was there acne on my face but also on my chest and back. Thanks to Victoria Secret push-up bras, I had more problems than I started with, and my boobies were still tiny.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“What I wish to say to the world is this: I hate how young boys and girls have to struggle the way I did. I know many kids have the same story that I do, and I find that horrible. What I want people to get from this is maybe I shouldn’t have to learn to love my body; that should be the easy part of growing up. Maybe we need to teach the next generation to love imperfections and to only compliment other kids. Then kids won’t have to learn self-love but will already have it built into their heads.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“In fourth grade, my nickname was Miss Piggy because my nose went up like a pig’s nose. All the adults thought it was a cute name, but I didn’t.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“My cuts have become scars, and I don’t mind if people see them. And yes, people ask about them, but I find it beautiful for me to be alive to tell them the reason the scars are there.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

theimperfectwomen

“I became tired. I was ready to retire my body-shaming hat. I took myself out of that hole with no one’s help, and I’m very proud of that.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com

kathleenmotoa

I love this project.

theimperfectwomen

“Bodies are weird. For example, babies’ heads start off cone-shaped! What the heck is that! And why do their heads smell so good? For a long time I thought my body was weird. (But not in a cute way, more like a cone-headed baby.) I felt very different, and, on top of that, I was made fun of for it. But hey, who doesn’t get bullied for looking different? It all started with the tummy. In kindergarten, I was made fun of for being too round in the tummy, so I began to suck it in, and the problem was solved for now. Some time around second or third grade, I was bullied for having large, pale legs, so I wore jeans every single day, and the problem was solved for the time being. In fourth grade, my nickname was Miss Piggy because my nose went up like a pig’s nose. All the adults thought it was a cute name, but I didn’t. Then, in fifth grade, my cheeks were said to be too red and had too many freckles. So I listened to the advice and put face powder on, and the problem was solved. In sixth and seventh grade, of course, I was bullied for having a boy chest so it was hello Victoria Secret push-up bras and good-bye boy chest. But, man, the worst of the worst was high school… OF COURSE IT HAD TO BE HIGH SCHOOL. I was bullied for about anything you can think of, but this time the problems weren’t so easy to solve. My famous nickname was “Casper the Friendly Ghost,” and let’s just say I didn’t get that nickname because I was nice. So I found some self-tanner and the problem was sol- But wait! I became orange or what they called it: the shade of Donald Trump. My body wouldn’t be a teenage body if it didn’t have acne and some dry skin. Makeup did not help my case; it made my face look horrible. So I just let the bullies play connect the dots with my face. Not only was there acne on my face but also on my chest and back. Thanks to Victoria Secret push-up bras, I had more problems than I started with, and my boobies were still tiny. At this point in my life, to be an acceptable teenager in society, I started to show some skin, so sucking in no longer solved the problem and the only fast way to lose weight was… That’s right! You guessed it! The answer was starvation. My body had been through a verbal war, and the words had won. I thought sadness and pain were beautiful because society said they were. The bullying finally got to the most precious part of my body: my head, the thing that held my brain, which held so many lies I chose to believe. The bullying slowly reached my arms and upper thighs. But, here’s the plot twist, I didn’t hide what I had done to myself. I wanted the bullies to see. I wanted them to ask me about the marks. I wanted someone to ask me about them while we were having lunch together, doing homework at Barnes & Noble, or when we were hanging out at the mall as a group of friends. Someone. Anyone.

No one asked.

I was too young to realize the topic was too sensitive, and it’s not another teenager’s job to make sure I was okay. I felt like all these bullies were my bosses that I had to please, show them the work I had done, then ask for help when I messed up on the job. What an exhausting thought! I became tired. I was ready to retire my body-shaming hat. I took myself out of that hole with no one’s help, and I’m very proud of that. My skin is pale so I bleached my hair! I’ve heard it makes me look washed out, but I absolutely love it because it is super cute and everyone is just jealous. Now, I can have whatever color hair I want! I now love my boobs! Most girls complain about how much their backs hurt and how sweaty their underboob gets. But nope! Not me! My boobies never give me problems now, and they never sag! Since my boobs are so small and cute, I don’t need a bra. No bra means no more back and chest acne! …Well, I mean, for the most part, but I don’t mind the acne there anymore. Since I’ve stopped stressing about how my body looks I’ve stopped having stress pimples on my face! So now my face is full of beautiful freckles. Not only that, but the rosy cheeks I have complement the freckles. My favorite feature of my face has to be my nose. I get compliments on it everyday and my boo boo thang loves to touch it. He tells me how cute it is and how much he loves my nose. It’s the small, weird things in life, like that, that I gotta love. I was called “fat,” but, now, my guy likes to call me “thick”! I have all these wonderful curves, and yes, my butt is my favorite curve! There is nothing wrong with a sister showing what she’s got! Speaking of curves, my legs are so wonderful and strong! Not just because of the muscles I have from that stupid stairmaster at the gym, but because my cuts have become scars, and I don’t mind if people see them. And yes, people ask about them, but I find it beautiful for me to be alive to tell them the reason the scars are there.

So now I’m at the end of my story: the story of the verbal war from people who I thought loved me but turned out to be bullies. And, of course, it ended with me learning to love my body and how trying to change my body didn’t solve any problems. We all heard that before. What I wish to say to the world is this: I hate how young boys and girls have to struggle the way I did. I know many kids have the same story that I do, and I find that horrible. What I want people to get from this is maybe I shouldn’t have to learn to love my body; that should be the easy part of growing up. Maybe we need to teach the next generation to love imperfections and to only compliment other kids. Then kids won’t have to learn self-love but will already have it built into their heads. Continue to spread love, even if it means telling someone how beautiful their lush unibrow looks today.” Woman [NO. 002], age 18.

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Photographer: Kathleen Motoa Copywriter: Jessica Chung Subject: Anonymous

https://theimperfectwomen.tumblr.com