"I wish you had been more observant..."

When I was thirteen, my friend sent me a text telling me that she loved me for everything I've ever done for her, then sent me a voice memo saying, "You were the best person I've ever met, but I wish you had been more observant and noticed my scars. I'm sorry about this, you treated me amazingly well." And then she committed suicide. 

I'm sixteen now, and I can't ever take those words out of my head when I see scars on someone else. To this day, I'm much more observant and open eyed to everyone. 

"They won't fit you anyway."

The summer before 8th grade was very difficult for me. I had started to notice that because of my size, people – boys in particular - treated me very different in comparison to girls who were thin. I spent that entire summer binging on saltines and carrots, which resulted in me making myself throw up.

By the time school resumed, I had lost about 50 pounds. My pant size dropped by 3 sizes and I felt absolutely AMAZING. l felt like I was finally a normal teenage girl.

One day my best friend and I were shopping and I found the cutest pair of shorts. They weren’t my size but I really liked the idea of using them as “goal” shorts. 

I gushed to my friend about how perfect they were. She grabbed them out of my hand and looked at the size and said, "Let me try these on. I bet they'll look really good on me, and they won't fit you anyway. They're too small."

Her words rung with condescension, and it was hurtful to hear her say something that I already knew but hoped nobody else thought. 

Destroyed

From an early age, I've struggled with self harm and mutilation.

One day when I was swimming, I ran into a guy who I hadn't seen in ten years. The last time he saw me, I wore shorts a lot. I had not started mutilating and my legs were "normal." 

When I ran into him, I was wearing a bathing suit, which revealed that my legs now have more scars than skin. 

He looked at me and said, "You've fucking destroyed yourself." 

I will never forget that sentence for as long as I live.
 

"...piece in the backseat."

I was talking to this guy online for a few months. He always listened to what I had to say and let me vent, and he always responded when I messaged him. I told him about my love life and about school, and I sent him pictures of myself (nothing graphic).

Then one day we got into an argument, and he completely turned on me. He used everything I had shared with him against me. He twisted my own words around and used them to hurt me. He said: 

"You think because you are overweight you are worthless, so you will sleep with anything, male or female, and think it's cool. But no one will ever bring you home to meet mom and dad. You will always just be some piece in the backseat."

This was four or five years ago, but I still remember word for word what he said. I memorized it. 

"Colorful, like you!"

I love baking, and I usually try to bring whatever I bake to work or so I don't end up eating all of it. People are always very appreciative, and I always try to be as creative as possible and outdo my last confection.

It was Easter, and I didn't have time to bake like I usually do, but someone else had brought in some really cute chocolate pretzel bites with pastel M&Ms. I asked my coworker if she knew who brought them, and she said, "Oh, I thought you did because they are bright and colorful, like you!"

I think that low-key changed my life. It certainly finally gave me the confidence to color my hair purple, which I have always wanted to do, but until then had made due with a bright auburn.

This was last year, and I still think about it with pride when I get dressed or look in the mirror or pick out something colorful to wear or buy.

"...revolting."

I have two daughters. They are my life and I love them to death. The fact remains, however, that having children changed my body. It has made me so insecure, but I've been trying to embrace body positivity for myself.

I was recently on the phone with a dear male friend, and he was talking about his ex-girlfriend who had a child. He referred to her stomach as "disgusting", "vile", "revolting" and "strange".

It was like all the confidence that I had been building suddenly fell. I can't stop thinking about it. 
 

"Do you eat one of those EVERY DAY?"

I'd had a bad morning, so I decided to treat myself to a Little Debbie brownie. I don't do this often (I really don't). I was running late, so I took it to school to eat it there. As soon as I opened the wrapper, one of my friends (or so I thought) asked, "Do you eat one of those EVERY DAY?" with a look of disgust. 

I said, "No, only rarely." Then my friend changed the subject and continued talking to another friend. 

You have no idea how awful, fat, and humiliated that made me feel. I still think about it, and I'll probably never forget it. Thanks for that.
 

"Would you rather date her or me?"

When I was in elementary school, my best friend moved away. Four years later, in fourth grade, she finally moved back. I was overjoyed!

But our friendship wasn't the same as it used to be.  She would always tell me she was prettier, better than me, etc. 

One day at lunch, she went up to every boy in the cafeteria, pointed at me, and said things like, "Would you date her?" and, "Would you rather date her or me?" Every single guy said they would rather date her. 

I was only in fourth grade, and my best friend had just become my very first bully. 

"Who do you chill with?"

In third grade, I started sitting with a group of girls at lunch. I didn't really talk to them, but they seemed really nice, and for some reason I felt very safe in their company. 

One day one of the girls turned to me with a smile. I was excited to start to get to know her, but then she asked me, albeit in a harmless tone, "Who do you chill with?"

She was basically asking who my actual friends were, implying it was clearly very random to her that I had chosen to sit there. 

What I wanted to say was, "You guys!" But instead I scrambled and said something like, "Oh, people at a different lunch period." 

This was the first time I realized my role in the world as an observer, a fly on the wall, who is extremely stimulated by her surroundings, but whose impact on said surroundings is less profound.