As a troubled teen, my values represented that of our generation’s warped psychology of materialism. Tirelessly, I had this preconceived image of how my life should appear-a perfect family with an abundance of friends, wanting more, yet never having enough. I tried so hard, to the point where I would exhaust my mind thinking about all the ways I was unhappy. I had everything that I needed. Yet, my dissatisfaction topped all; I was starving and I felt the hunger, relentlessly.
Each night, I would scour the internet comparing myself to the edited bodies of overly-thinned girls posing provocatively in the name of likes. I resented the fact that it was impossible to tuck in just an inch more of my thighs in reality, like the instant, “retouch and refine,” feature on the popular editing app, FaceTune, could do to a photo in a matter of seconds.
Someone, please tell me I’m pretty. Someone tell me I’m skinny. Please make people like my photos, especially boys. Someone, comment on the photo, ensure me I look okay. Someone, tell me I’m enough. I need to be more than enough.
I dream of perfection.
My next phase had me convinced that I needed someone to assure me I was good enough. A partner to love me because I was incapable of loving myself.
*****
When I was a girl, I associated love with fantasy. I would dream I was a princess trapped in my castle, waiting for my prince to fill the burning hole in my heart. This would be what my life needed. That, I assumed, would be the cure to my emptiness. The thought of beauty, the lifestyle, the charming boy and the endless experiences shared among two emotional souls, who would create a life together, gave me hope.
I was a teenager when I realized that princesses, too, are damned. Tormented by fairytales and tired of waiting for their unrequited love to be returned. How long must Sleeping Beauty lie her woeful head against a pillow before her Prince understands that his kiss will allow her to wake? Why must Rapunzel sit in a tower, trapped, before her Prince is able to recognize he is her saving grace?
*****
I, like the princesses, created my own metaphorical prison. I was limiting my thoughts to feelings of insecurity and hopelessness, while yearning for a guy to make me feel better about myself. I lived my life thinking that how others saw me was a depiction of the woman I was. That every imperfection I possessed was just another reason the world was against me.
I felt stuck in my life, rooted in a cycle of toxicity, obsessively trying to warp myself into a person that I could be proud of. My pursuit of perfection was provoking a dangerous mindset, and I couldn’t handle it anymore.
As I began to understand this fault of mine, I looked closer into social media’s effect on culture. The digital world has become a massive powerhouse today-influencers and internet moguls alike have created an enormous market in our economy. Through vlogging, FaceTuning, and false advertising, delusion became reality. Because of their credibility and heavy influence over their large audiences, we began to believe that the unrealistic expectations some* moguls promote are the norm.
In my former and naive eyes, social media status and the size of my waist became the highest achievement.
I thought I needed to reach a certain status socially and physically to finally feel happy.
It wasn’t some coming-of-age epiphany that made me recognize how truly hollow my intentions for life had become. It was a common and simple thought that sparked a realization.
One night after rejecting myself, routinely bringing on a new flood of emotions before I would fall asleep, I wondered what it would be like if I was proud of not only who I was, but how I looked.
With that one thought, I was propelled to make a list. I wrote down reoccurring thoughts and moments that I have held myself back from due to insecurities and emotional absence. After what was meant to be a few minutes, became almost an hour of regrets that were painful to read over.
“I haven’t swum in front of people in ten years because I am afraid of how I look.”
“I can’t post a photo without editing the ‘undesirable’ parts of my body.”
“I have caught myself putting down other women in hopes that I will feel better about myself.”
“I believe that I am unworthy of love because I do not like how I look.”
“If I miss a party, my social life will take a giant hit, and I will obsess over it.”
I was shocked.
Day-to-day, this is what consumed my mind.
I could blame it on my individual struggles and lack of confidence, but, it was deeper.
It had to do with our generation believing that in order to fit in, it was necessary to meet the unrealistic beauty and societal standards, forever keeping us all on a constant chase of never truly being enough.
Now that I understood, I began to recognize that I needed a change. A break from the sadness and cruelty that robbed me from chances I had to feel secure.
I made a conscious decision that night that things would be different. And, I’m not going to lie. It is really freaking hard to love yourself for all that you are. Heck, I am not even close to being where I need to be. But, within the learning moments, I find relief, and most importantly, happiness.
A feeling that I have been deprived of for quite some time.
I miss a party once in a while, realizing that no one really cares if I’m not there.
I eat food when I’m hungry, unapologetically.
I hug my mom more often, thanking her for everything she has given me.
I don’t look at social media some days, realizing that it’s nice to take a break.
I post photos, unedited, and am happy with how I look.
I understand that I don’t need a prince, but I open myself up emotionally to new and old relationships.
I laugh more, loud and hard, without caring who hears.
Although I try to stray away from the word, society, it truly has warped us into believing that we are not enough-capitalizing on our materialistic concerns and skewed images of perfection.
Why not take advantage of that truth? Be the woman who says whatever the hell she wants to, just because she feels like it.
Breakaway from the shallow standards set in place, so you can inspire others to do the same.
Provoke people, and provoke yourself, as much as possible.
I dare you.
To find moments in life, to realize how much power you, yourself, hold over how you feel. That your happiness lies in your own hands, and that all it takes is a few nudges in the right direction. Learning to not only accept but thrive on your individuality is an exciting part of life. Hell, we will never be perfect or fit the mold that has been set in place. It’s about who we are and the people we welcome in our life. When we stop believing that our worth is depicted by others, we rely on ourselves, and when we do, we flourish. In a world so superficial, celebrating your uniqueness is uncommon.
Liking yourself shouldn’t feel rebellious, it should be innate.