Thank you for this project. It is meaningful in many ways. And I believe you've assisted in setting many people free of these seemingly innocent but still hurtful words. You've definitely helped me realize that I have the ability to acknowledge it happened, but that I don't have to continue to carry his comments with me. His words are not my truth.
The summer I turned 12 years old, I spent a lot of time at the local swimming pool. There was always something so calming about the water, whether it was the pool, the lake, the river. Playing in and being surrounded by water made me so comfortable. Being that comfortable was not a luxury I often had in my life, so I was especially thankful for these "retreats."
I had been working on perfecting my dive for a week or two, trying hard to keep up with those who made it look so effortless. I was so proud of the progress I had been making.
Then a boy I had a mild crush on said to me "The reason you can't dive is because of your back fat," and he laughed.
I was crushed. I had never even realized I had back fat. But as I twisted around and examined my body in the mirror, I did have a slight roll on each side, below my bra line.
I've had body image issues ever since, struggling with bouts of bulimia among other things.
To this day, when I look in the mirror as I dress, I am reminded of my imperfection, the cruel laughter at my expense.
I think of all the times over the past 15 years that I've silently agreed with him as I disapprovingly gazed at my flaws. And I'm kind of pissed about it, now as I end this story. How much of my self talk I've allowed to echo his voice since that day.
No more.
One day in high school, I was riding the bus home. It was a peaceful ride. I was reading my book, as I normally did, and keeping to myself.
All of a sudden I heard these two boys, one my age one older, start talking about me. These boys knew nothing about me, other than the fact that I was overweight.
They started talking about how gross it was to look at me, how I must be eating all the time to look like that. Then one of them said something that cut worse and deeper than anything else they had said: "She must not even care that she looks like that."
With that, a single tear hit the page I had stopped on.
Before I could even turn around to defend myself from these verbal attacks, they stood up and got off the bus.
I was left there, young, impressionable, and hurt.
They never knew the impact their words made on me, and they never will.
When I was sixteen I tried to tell my (alcoholic) mom that I had been raped four years prior. I don't know how I wanted her to respond, but I needed her to know.
As she lay on the couch, I spilled my guts about the older guy that took advantage of me years ago.
After I finish my story all she had to say was, "I knew you were promiscuous, but I didn't know it started that young."
She then proceeded to fall back asleep.
When I was in high school I wasn't attractive. I had fuzzy hair and acne. I had a pension for Marilyn Manson and black eyeliner. I wasn't trendy or popular. I didn't get asked out. I had average grades and excelled at seemingly nothing except science.
There were two stoner girls I always worked with in class. They were slim and pretty and nice enough. They liked me because I knew the answers and came up with the most interesting projects.
One day as I was walking into school I overheard them talking about me to someone in my class that, unsurprisingly, didn't know my name. They described me with the usual descriptors I was used to: fuzzy hair, goth.
But then they added in one that was new: big.
I took it to heart because it was a new jab, a new problem.
I confronted them later, and they explained that they meant no harm, as I am nearly 6 feet tall.
But my life from that point on revolved around my weight.
I ate 600 calories a day and worked out 3 hours a day for nearly 4 years. I spent the entirety of my adult life struggling with my weight.
I'm 30 now. I've been in and out of treatment. I don't know if I'll ever be all right with myself.
The night I was raped, my rapist told me, "To girls like you, no means yes."
This has stuck with me, because in a way its true. But not the way he meant it.
Every time a teacher told me I wasn't smart enough, I studied harder and longer so I could tell her, "Yes I am."
When I was told I would never advance at work, I improved my numbers to prove to my boss that, "Yes I could."
So I guess he was right.
To girls like me, no means yes.
A little while ago I went to the local store to buy some groceries. I am not fit, nor thin. I am on the plus-size side.
Two girls were in the parking lot, randomly making fun of people that walked by and insulting them. As soon as I pulled up and parked, they immediately started saying things to me, but I couldn't hear them. Once I stepped out of the car, their laughter roared even louder.
They started saying how fat and ugly I was, that nobody would love me. Comment after comment, they would laugh louder and louder.
I kept on walking, ignoring them, but I took it personally. I was hurt and angry. I felt disappointed in myself, wondering if they were right about my appearance. I wanted to say something back, but I couldn't. I went into the store with their hurtful comments and laughter echoing in my head.
My boyfriend of almost five years wanted to go to a friend's house, where a ton of girls would be. I asked to go with him.
He said, "No one will have fun if you're there."
It still stings thinking about it.
I found out later that he was cheating with one of the girls. No wonder no one would have had fun.
I survived a brief but horrifying relationship. What stuck with me was not the physical abuse, but these words, "You are not as good as you think you are."
Ten years later, I'm still battling those words in my head every day. Previously, I was an invincible Marine and elite rugby player. Now, daily, I struggle with my own self worth.
I was once riding in the car with my dad, and we were talking. Nothing in depth or serious. I don't even remember what he said that caused him to apologize (I wish I could).
But he said to me, "I'm sorry, its just I guess sometimes I still think of you as my son."
I started to wonder how long he's seen me like that. If he has ever treated me a certain way because he'd seen me as a boy.
I wonder if anything in my life might have been different if he had seen me as me.
Has anyone ever made a fleeting comment about you that immediately became tattooed onto the front of your brain for all of eternity, impacting your self-perception and self-worth? Whether it was an offhand comment made by someone you love and respect or a fleeting declaration by someone you barely know, we share the moments that stick.
