"Just a phase."

Sophomore year of high school, I was well into my depression and struggling to find a reason to keep going. The first person I confided in was my dad, and he assured me that he'd help me find a therapist. 

Fast forward to a few months later, and my mom and stepdad were the ones who were helping me to find the help I so desperately needed. 

My dad finally attended a session with me, and afterwards he admitted to me in the car that he thought that my depression was "just a phase," and that he had never actually looked for help for me. 

It's been nearly 6 years, and I still don't think he takes me seriously.
 

"Despite being fat, you dress very nicely."

I used to go to church with my grandma every week. One day when I was fourteen, I decided to dress up for church more than I normally did. I had recently gotten a new dress that I thought looked really nice, and I was excited to wear it. 

My grandmother's church friend came up to me and complimented my dress, which I was elated about. Then she said, "Despite being fat, you dress very nicely. I imagine it wouldn't be easy finding dresses in your size, so it's good you found one." 

She probably thought she was being nice and giving me a great compliment, but I was devastated. I ran into the bathroom and cried my eyes out. 

I had always been self conscious from bullies in school, but I think her comment was the worst.
 

"You're raising a pussy."

I went camping with my family a few years ago. My sister brought her new boyfriend, who kept picking on my four-year-old son. When my sister went for a walk with her boyfriend, my parents asked us what we all thought of him. I said that I didn't like him because he was mean to my kid. 

My father looked me square in the face and said, "Well that's not a reason to not like him! You can't protect your son all his life. You're raising a pussy." 

My son was FOUR! I will never forget that. 

"You'll never have a boyfriend."

My mom would often show my sister how to put on makeup and dress nicely. I would sit on the bed, outside the closed door, and listen. One day, I finally got up the nerve to ask them, "Hey, could you guys show me how to do that sometime?" My mom looked at me like I was crazy, and my sister asked, "Why should we? You'll never have a boyfriend." 

This was just another moment in a long list of times they had diminished me. But somehow, I didn't believe them. I mean, I thought it was possible that I might not be very attractive, but I thought that there was somebody for everybody, right?

I met my husband when I was 29. We married when I was 32. I'm 60 now. Our life together has been like a romance novel. He's a wonderful, amazing, lovely man with a Scottish accent and a kind heart. We've had our share of hard times, but somehow we have laughed through it and hung on to each other. 

Everyone in my family acts amazed that I was the one that ended up with the wonderful, stable and happy marriage. They are all jealous of the daily love letters and the way he takes special care of me. 

What stuck with me was that even though those unkind words were spoken to me, I simply chose not to believe them. I did struggle with low self esteem a bit, but it didn't stop me from enjoying life! 

Harsh words lose their power when you just decide, "I'm not going to get angry. I'm just not going to believe that."
 

"Why did you let yourself be alone with him?!"

When I finally got up the courage to confess to my mother that my former stepbrother (from her second marriage) had molested me, she looked me dead in the face and asked, "Why did you let yourself be alone with him?!" 

I cannot forgive her. I've tried, but I just can't. I hate her. I hate everything about her. 

When she met my one-year-old son for the first time and he cried every time she tried to hold him, I couldn't help but smile. 

"I told you that I would be the pretty one."

My cousin and I were inseparable our whole lives. She was always beautifully curvaceous, and I was always stick thin. Her dad use to fat shame her, telling her that she had to look like me to ever be loved. 

Fast forward to this year when I was pregnant (but hadn't told anyone yet) and she was starving herself for her new beau. She called me and said, "I told you that one day you would be the fat one and I would be the pretty, skinny one." 

She even encouraged her boyfriend to make fun of my weight.

"You always look like that."

I had serious acne when I was younger. One time in middle school, my friend was upset about a pimple on her face. I told her she looked perfectly fine, but she told me, "You don't understand, because you always look like that."

Gorilla

When I was about 8, I was hanging out with my friend who was about four years older than I was.

All of a sudden, she looked down and said,  "Oh my God, you look like a f*cking gorilla with those hairy arms!" and broke into hysterical laughter.

I'm 16 now, and so self conscious about it that I won't leave my house without making sure most of my arms are covered.

"How could she do that to you?"

My now-husband and I became pregnant with our son when I was 20 and he was 22. We were young and it wasn't ideal, but we loved each other, had been together for a year, and were already prepared to raise a family; it just happened a little earlier than we'd thought. 

My husband called his mother to tell her the news, and I sat very close to him, trying to hear her reaction. I never expected what came next: 

"How could she do that to you?" she asked. "Doesn't she know you can't afford it?" I stood up, but I could still hear her. "You do know that when she leaves you, you're going to have to pay her, right?" 

I don't even know what my husband said because I remember being so shocked and hurt that I walked out of the room and sat outside. 

My son is 8 now, and my husband and I have been together for a little over 10 years, married for 5, and bought our first home 2 years ago. We are still very much in love, and we are incredible parents.

In that whole time, my mother in law has said countless stupid and mean things to me. But this comment has always stuck with me and always will. 
 

"There's something wrong with her!"

I had extremely sever acne as a teenager, and eventually I had to go to a dermatologist. 

When my father found out that the insurance would not cover my visit, he yelled at my mom, "Why not? There's something wrong with her!"

I have carried this comment with me for 40 years. 

Low self-esteem, no confidence, and settling for my first real boyfriend were all things I attributed to this one cutting sentence. 

Thanks, Dad.