Overcoming Myself

Insecurity. A killer alone. It had overwhelmed me like a flood, rushing, mutilating, and consuming every feeling of confidence it came across. The year was 2016. The year that would change me forever. Starting off, the prime and most thrilling year of elementary school, sixth grade. Jokes. Comments. Gossip. Secrets. There were many and many attempts to shut it out and ignore my inner thoughts, but there was no escape, no light at the end of the tunnel, no one who could alter my mindset but the only person who could understand my pain, myself. Why does no one like me? Am I ugly? The reoccurring thoughts had just begun to spiral through my mind and take complete control over the confidence I once had, and would quickly long for once again. It became my life. You're weird. Wear better clothes. Do your makeup. Now when I look in the mirror it’s only a reminder. The hurtful and judging words never leave, but pierce and shatter my innocent heart into believing and living thinking that I’m not enough, I will never be. I wish I could be her. She’s skinny. She’s the perfect picture of what I want, what I need. Words I once ignored and laughed along with, even from my relatives and family, felt different, struck deep, deep inside, like a strike of lightning straight to the heart. Why me? Why couldn’t I just be pretty? Be someone other people would be jealous of? However, above all the pain, suffering, overthinking, and depression, I would soon realize that confidence and acceptance were the answers to my worries and doubts. But how do I become something I’m not? Work towards your goal.

One simple conversation with my best friend was all it took. We met in third grade, instantly became inseparable, rode the bus to and from school together, and laughed until tears flooded our eyes as we gasped for breath. My true best friend. I thought she could help me, heal me, give me the answer I desperately searched for. A person’s words I believed the most. One meaningless comment, spoken without the thought of how significantly it would damage my fading confidence hanging on the last strand. At last, they were released. You’re fat because your thighs touch when you stand up. It wasn’t true. In sixth grade, I believed it. I lived by it. Although I  laughed and went along with it, my mind twisted these words into sharp vines that grew tighter around my head whenever I saw the reflection staring back in the mirror. Internal thoughts. They spiraled out of control in my head, every day, every moment of worry or doubt, every time jealousy poisoned my mind like a plague. Like a disease that didn’t have an easy cure. It only grew and spread as time slowly passed by. 

Middle School, just two years. The part of life to become a new person, feel grown up, mature, and thoughts begin to bloom and become more vivid and vibrant. I had been struggling with my insecurities, but this was the year I would decide to find the motivation to change. It was time. I knew the way to love and accept myself instead of seeing only the flaws, whether it was being a minority racially, or looking at the scale with disgust and rejection, I would have to change my crippling physical and mental health. Everything happens for a reason. It was my mom’s favorite thing to say. I hear this phrase so often, they’ve become simply five words that go in one ear and out the other without any realization that they are true. Volleyball tryouts were peeking around the corner and I was head over heels to get the opportunity to make the team of a sport that mesmerized me every time I watched in the stands. Practice makes perfect. Something I’ve always wanted to see come true. Every morning before tryouts, as the sun crept slowly over the mountain, sweat created tiny streams on my forehead as I hit the volleyball time and time again until my forearms were swelled and red. Try harder. Work harder. Faster. I can do it. Don’t give up. Showing up to tryouts, all I felt was intimidation by experienced players who made hits look natural, clean, and simple. Just get it over with. My mind was battling its thoughts. I knew deep down I wasn’t good enough just like I had already been telling myself. I won't make it. As everyone squeezed together, trying to see the final team paper on the door, a tsunami of defeat drowned me once again. Nothing I want ever works out. This experience was only a step towards my journey.

2020. Covid changes the whole world. Our lives would never be the same as we knew them. Covid-19 shut down stores, restaurants, public areas, homes, destroyed families, lives, and the mental health of people in every household. For once, I had the chance to only focus on one person in need, myself. The perfect opportunity for the one thing I had longed for, self-love. Workout. What my brother’s life revolved around. He kept telling me over and over until finally, I agreed. Every day for the next year and a half, sweat and tears, determination, and focus. I stepped on the scale and now, smiled. Finally, I started to accept myself and realized my dream of being happy with who I was was becoming a reality. It wasn’t impossible anymore. 

As time progressed, my confidence grew more and more each time I saw my reflection. You are beautiful. You worked hours on end for this. You did it. I got rid of the negative people, hobbies, and thoughts replacing them with those who brought light in the darkness, a hand when one needed help, and a smile on my face. 

Junior year of 2022. I have gone through war with my own mind, oceans of tears and sweat, struggling mental health, depression, and a thread of hope, but it was all worth it at the end of the day. Throughout this long and treacherous journey, I learned one thing that would lead to a brighter future of self-acceptance and positivity. The power of perseverance.