Not enough or too much
I don’t think that very many people have experienced hating yourself. Like where you hate the way that your face is structured. In my life, I have deeply hated myself. I hated the way that I looked. I hated the way that my eyes looked tiny behind my glasses. I hated that when I looked down, my chin bulged out. I hated that my cheeks were too big. I hated that my eyebrows were too faint. I hated that I was skinny around the middle but my stomach pooched out. I hated that my thighs jiggled. I hated that my hips were too small. I hated that my feet were too big. All these things were what I saw in the mirror. I hated it with a passion. I was always told that I was tall. Everyone pointed it out to me. I was told time after time “Oh you’re so tall! Do you play basketball/volleyball?” “How tall are you?” “What’s it like in the clouds?” At first, it was annoying. Then, it sunk in. I saw how everyone was below my chin. I saw how my knees hit the bottom of my desk. I saw how my pants were too short. I thought I was broken. I thought that I was freakishly tall or something. I thought I was a giant. I hated it. That was a new thing to hate in the mirror. I begun to crouch my shoulders down and make myself seem shorter. I tried to shrink myself. Even when I did that, I was criticized. “Why are you crouching?” “Stand up tall!” Nothing was ever enough for anybody. I was either too loud or too quiet. Too tall or too short. I am always not enough or too much. I am always compared and sized up to everyone else. “Why won’t you be like her?” “He’s a good example to follow.” Why can’t people accept me for me? These are reasons why I was suicidal. It’s not always lack of food or abuse. It also small comments like these that hurt.
