Have you ever sat and wondered why you aren't good enough? Or why do I look this way? Well hello to my daily mindset. Some may think I’m pretty, some may think I’m crazy, some may even think I’m annoying or evil. But me? What do I think of myself? I honestly couldn’t even tell you if I wanted to. I don’t know who I am as a person. I constantly play mind tricks with myself and think I’ll never be good enough. Yea, you could tell me a million times over and over that I am good enough, but I will never feel that way.

I guess it all truly began in 5th grade and escalated from there. I didn’t always look like how I look now. I had crooked teeth, skinny legs, messy hair, and to add onto skinny legs they were also long. I didn’t have a sense of style, I just threw on whatever I had that would fit with the environment—even if the clothes didn’t make sense. Looking back at the age of 11, sitting in 5th grade, staring at all the girls in my class. I knew I would be the last girl anybody would picture pretty in that class. 

Many boys would make fun of how skinny I was. I would be called a twig, a stick, and many other harmful words no one should ever have to hear. I remember running to the restroom during lunch to cry my eyes out because I would be constantly bullied for being underweight. I felt so misunderstood, I didn’t know that weight and appearance could affect having friends at such a young age. I would run home, cry in my room for hours, staring at my body in the mirror, wondering why I couldn't be thicker? Have a nicer physique. My parents would always tell me that “words are just words” and to toughen up a bit. Not the ideal thing you want to hear as a child. 

It wasn’t only the kids at my school that would tease me about my weight. I was severely underweight compared to my cousins. My cousins were pretty, did good in school, went to church, and never got in trouble—ideally, the picture perfect children. But me? I was a different kid. Always seemed to find myself in the wrong places. I thought hanging out with bullies and doing bad things would make people like me more, but turns out I was hurting people the way they hurt me. I tend to crave validation from people due to the fact that people would openly make comments about my appearance. So now I’m stuck with this mindset of “well what would other people think of me” instead of “what do I think of myself.”

My family status wasn’t always the best, parents would regularly fight. At a young age, seeing such hostility and anger toward the people who are supposed to teach you love, kindness, and forgiveness is so shocking at such a young age where my mind couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. My dad’s and my relationship wasn’t always what I needed. I would always get jealous seeing girls around me at award nights  run to their dads and be so excited to see them. My mom on the other hand, that is the oxygen to my lungs. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad to death. But my mom has played both roles even when my dad didn’t feel like stepping up.

Enough of the family talk, fast forward to middle school, 6th grade year. The first year of middle school. It was Covid season so wearing a mask was a way to hide my facial insecurities. I wasn’t very popular at the time, but I do remember two girls who were the spotlight of attention in 6th grade. All the boys in school wanted them. They WERE the IT girls. Something in me wanted to be them. Instead of accepting who I was as a person, I wanted to fit in and actually make myself comfortable with being someone. I would try to wear makeup like those girls, dress like them, and even talk like them. Who knew how much a few words could impact your life forever. Even after all that, I still didn’t feel seen enough.

In 7th grade, I finally figured out what I liked to wear, how I wanted my makeup to look like, and how I wanted to act. I knew that this year would finally make a change to my life. Remember those popular girls? Yea, they finally acknowledged me. I was finally involved with the popular group. The popular boys thought I was cool and so did the girls. I finally felt like I belonged. Yet something in me still had to compare myself to them. I was still very skinny considering my age group of girls. So I would hide my body. Yea boys thought I was cute, but they didn’t think I was pretty enough to like. So I got more involved with violence, I wanted to get more into fights, drama, and whatever I could do to take my anger out. One stupid look towards me and I would think you had a problem with me. Turns out I was the one who looked stupid. I was still getting bullied about my size at the time, but instead of crying about it. I chose violence. I don’t know why I wanted to do the things I did, it just felt right in the moment. I got rpcd multiple times, suspended a couple, and even got inhouse. I knew deep down this wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be angry like my dad, I wanted to become someone who would be proud of who they are as a person.

Big 8th grade year, the last year of middle school. I would say this was the best year of middle school life. I completely turned my life around. I got my first real boyfriend, I played basketball, got many awards, got good grades, had good friends. So many good memories. Until one day in December, I randomly got this weird sadness. I couldn’t tell what it was, or why I felt that way. I didn’t know what it was. I remember going to my friend’s birthday party, and I felt so down and so out of place. I decided to go on a walk. My very good friend knew something was up. So he followed me. I told the rest of the group I was gonna head home. They didn’t know why I was so down, or why I decided to leave early. Little did they know, I didn’t know why either. As I was walking, I decided to get into my head a lot. Everything I hated about myself, about life, about anything. Just kept running to my mind. I remember filling my eyes with tears as I’m walking on this long, dark road, with cars passing by and the night was late and cold. My body was shivering from how cold it was. And my warm tears were the only thing keeping my face from freezing. 

I don’t know how this was activated, I was doing good in life, but then suddenly I just snapped. I remember feeling this exhaustion while waking and wanting everything to be over. I wanted everything to be done and I felt like the weight I was carrying would just be lifted. I stepped one foot in front of a passing car that was speeding and didn’t think twice about it. Till suddenly, my friend grabbed my arm from behind and grabbed me. He hugged me and asked me what I was doing, why was I trying to get in front of a car? What was wrong? The thing is, I couldn’t tell him what was wrong, I didn’t know. I just wanted everything to be done. I collapsed on the floor, trying to collect my thoughts and think of what was wrong with me. I never thought of doing that before, why so sudden? My friend took me back to the house where I sat in front of the garage and cried my eyes out, making my eyes feel dry from all this crying. I remember thinking, what if this is what I needed? 

Freshman year, I never forgot that day and I never forgot about that friend and that feeling. For some reason it carried on with me. But freshman year it became worse. I started to do activities that weren’t healthy for my physical, emotional and mental health. I wanted all my pain to be gone, immediately and permanently. I wanted everything to be thrown out the door. My future, my past, and even myself. My pain was no longer a mental pain. It turned physical. I started to physically feel the pain run through my body. I would cry and not know why I was crying. I would take substances and do things that I knew weren’t right. I would physically harm myself because I couldn’t figure out how to make the pain stop. I was confused and constantly at war with myself. Instead of being there for myself, I ran away from me and who I truly was. 

Fast forward to today. I still am confused about who I am. I don’t know who I am as a person. But I do know something. Sometimes I wish I could hit a reset button in my life. Or a button that would reload every bad moment in my life and I could go back and fix it. I still struggle to understand my image. I still struggle to understand why I feel certain emotions, why I feel so angry, why I cry suddenly, why I cannot let go of certain grudges. I struggle to forgive and I struggle to become someone better. I expect more from myself. Some may say I’m too hard on myself. But if I’m not too hard on myself, I won’t even think or feel like I’m good enough. I have to constantly try to keep myself from struggling to feel like I’m good enough to fit in this screwed up world. But I have no one else to blame but myself, I built this mental foundation. And I chose to be this way. 

I expect myself to actually try and prove to not only me but to other people that I’m a good person and a beautiful person inside and out. I don’t know if I love myself, I don’t know why and I don’t know how. I just don’t. I hate that I constantly think that my body, my image, my personality, who I am as a human being isn’t enough. Some may not understand, but a short few might. I’m a complicated person, and maybe that’s acceptable to me even though it shouldn’t be, it just makes sense in my world. But the majority of the time. I wish I had a reload button on my life. Just like a laptop, a simple click of a button could change a whole program. A lot of things have happened to me, things I don’t even understand why it happened. Sometimes I wonder why, you know? I never quite understand what I do to get the things that come my way. Some may say, bad things happen to good people. But I’m not a good person and bad things happen. I don’t understand why. I just wish I could reload my life to something different. But one thing I am proud of, is that I am here today trying to correct myself. Even though sometimes I feel like I’m constantly going crazy. I’m still proud that I continue to choose to move forward and pick myself up. And I think that’s the only thing I find acceptable about my life.