I can't remember how far back the self hate started, but I believe it was around the time I was 7 or 8. Just typing that age on my screen makes my stomach curdle. I look at how sweet and innocent 7 and 8 year old children are and I can't imagine them carrying that kind of hate in their hearts. It is so unfair.
I believe it began as a direct result of the sexual abuse I suffered as a young girl. I was abused by a very close family member and I am still trying to free myself from the guilt and shame that engulfed me after that. I began hating my body, I had trouble trusting people, and I was terrified as I watched my family crumble under the stress of me reporting the abuse.
Then came a 6 year court battle while I was going through High School and College that ended in my abuser getting probation.
I hated myself for putting my family through that for what seemed like nothing. I felt damaged. I hated my body. I lost not only more trust in people, but lost all faith in the court system.
Then I met my now husband and he made me feel amazing. I felt loved, beautiful, worthy and every other gushy lovey dovey feeling there is. We got married after dating for a few years and started to try to have a family.
Bam and I have now been married 8 years and have no living children. We conceived 4 times with my body killing off our children each time for some unknown reason. I hated my body. I felt like a failure as a wife. I felt like a failure as a woman. I felt like I had disappointed my family, Bam's family, my friends (even my infertile ones). I gained a bunch of weight thanks to my PCOS, self loathing and fertility medications. I hated my body.
I have stretch marks with no children to blame them on. Like the majority of women with insulin resistance I carry most of my weight in my stomach and have excess facial hair that I relentlessly try to remove. I hated my excess facial hair. I hated my belly fat. I hated my dimply thighs.
I will no longer be entertaining that four letter word. There are many other four letter words that I LOVE...but hate is out of my vocabulary. At least when it applies to myself - I will always hate peas and that won't change (sorry mom!)
I am a fucking strong woman who has endured more pain, disappointment, heartache and loss than many 31 year old women I know. It took a lot of strength and endurance to expose my abuser in 6th grade. It took even more guts to make the decision to go to the police and then even more balls to endure a 6 year long legal battle.
I have earned every fucking stretch mark, stray hair and dimple on my thighs after putting my body through years of fertility treatments, stress and miscarriages.
I need to give myself a break and start treating myself as good as I treat my friends - I take that back BETTER than I treat my friends because I haven't always been able to be a good friend because I was too busy hating myself.
I want to be comfortable in my skin, I want to be able to laugh and be silly and not worry what others are thinking of me. I want to be able to dance goofy, live free and be comfortable in the decisions I make. I want to know that the friends I have around me, know the true me and love me for that. I want to look at myself in the mirror and see the strong bitch that I am staring back at me.
No More Self Hate.
I am changing my thoughts and in turn...I am changing my world!