Everyday before I leave the house, I always stop to look in the mirror. One last check to make sure I am presentable for others. All others need to see is the surface level me. The me that curls her hair, the me that applies the perfect amount of blush on, and the me that wears a dress and boots. However, I do not actually know the surface level version of myself— it is all a ploy to trick others into socially accepting me based off of my appearance.
From a young age, I remember staring at myself in dance class next to the other girls. I always seemed to stick out in my mind; I felt like I was the odd one out. I was the girl who was not meeting the same standards as the others. This toxicity followed me into middle school and junior high. After being called fat on multiple occasions, I began to believe these comments. Soon, they were stitched into my sweater, and I hung onto these ruthless comments as a determiner of my self worth.
Even though I went to a Catholic school from Kindergarten to Eighth grade, and we all wore the same uniforms everyday, I could not help but constantly point out the differences between me and the other girls I had grown up with. Some matured faster than me and grew out of the “baby fat” as my mother would call it, but for some reason I had not. At times I thought the universe was punishing me or I simply blamed my genetics, but it all boiled down to my idea of beauty.
I thought beauty meant being a size 0, having clear skin, wearing a perfectly ensembled outfit, and being up for anything. Spending way too much time in an attempt to check those boxes, I came to the conclusion that I was clearly mistaken. No one had taught me that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. Growing up in a generation where we find our ideal vision of beauty from social media instead of from ourselves creates a thick layer of insecurities for young women to carve through. The constant burst of liking and scrolling and commenting severely affected my opinion of myself— not to mention my mental health.
It wasn’t until my junior year of high school that I had a moment of complete confidence in myself. I stopped looking at unrealistic body “goals” on Instagram, and I took a tentative and daunting step into a realm where it is okay to love my body as it is and give myself compliments. It is not selfish to self love— it is human and healthy. My journey with my body is a lifelong commitment and I will stop at nothing to make myself happy.
I am making the choice to take a moment to step back and let myself heal from the years of self destruction. I am confident in my body now because I am learning how to heal my wounds. Loving myself is the first step to self actualization— no one can get in the way of that from now on. I will never take another look in the mirror for anyone but myself again.