I was preparing to do a skit with some friends, and when I told them which part I wanted to play, the girl who I looked up to the most said, "You can't, because you're not dainty enough."
She didn't mean for it to sound mean, but her comment has stuck with me, and I can barely eat more than a sandwich anymore.
In seventh grade, my four best friends and I were decorating my friend's Christmas tree. At one point we were all keeling on the couch, leaning against the back of it, looking at the tree, while my friend decorated it.
Then she switched her glance from the tree to us, and laughed and said to me, "It's such a funny image to see everyone with normal butts, and then you with absolutely no butt!"
Everyone laughed, and I did too, but I felt mortified and horrible. I wasn't even aware at that point that I had no butt, or that having no butt was such a funny sight.
After her comment, I ordered padded underwear off the internet. Now as an adult, I no longer wear the padded underwear, but I am still very much aware of my butt at all times.
One time in third grade, a girl spat gum on me at recess and said, "No boy will ever like you because you look like a fat cat!"
This has never left me, and I have never liked cats since.
When I was in middle school, my mom told me that I was "a fat girl" and that "fat girls don't have friends, and they certainly don't get boyfriends."
Small 12 year old me truly took her words to heart and developed a severe case of anorexia due to what she said. I'm now 23, and I have been battling the eating disorder ever since. I also have an intense fear of gaining weight and suffer from extreme depression if I do gain any weight.
In the past I've struggled a lot with anxiety, depression, PTSD, and bipolar. Lately I've been struggling with agoraphobia, or the fear of going outside. I've been indoors 90% of the time for a number of years, and I'm trying to work through it now.
I stopped going to public school sophomore year. I can't handle the environment, with timed expectations and feeling like people have their eyes on me when I mess up, so I take classes at home through the school. Every so often I have to go to the high school to do paperwork or something. My anxiety gets to me pretty often, but I try my hardest to relax and keep my head up. Keeping happy is my way of getting back at all the misfortune in my life, even if it's difficult.
One day as I was getting ready to go to the high school to do some errands, I decided for the first time in forever that I wanted to dress up a little. Feeling confident makes it easier for me to go outside. It makes me feel like if people look at me, they won't judge what they see.
As I was getting ready to cross the street to go home, someone sped by in a car and screamed at me, "GET A LIFE!"
I stood and stared at the street for a moment. I felt like a paper thin glass bottle getting dropped on the ground. I wanted to sit down and cry, but I wanted even more desperately to just go back home and be inside. Indoors, nobody would call me names or tell me what to do with my life.
I wanted to stop that car and shriek into his ears, "Do you know what you've just done to me? Do you know what I am going through? It took every single ounce of my energy to get out of bed today, and you have the audacity to tell me to get a life. I'm trying. I'm TRYING to get a life and I'm TRYING to maintain it. You don't know what it's like to get up with the intentions of going outside, look at the front door for fifteen minutes, undo the deadbolt, and then start crying and go back to bed because people like you make me wish I had never been born. I hope you're happy with yourself. I worked up every last bit of courage I had to walk out the front door today and you shattered it. You took it and threw it in a trash compactor."
The three words he screamed at me made me feel empty and alone. It kept me wondering what I did wrong. What did I do to deserve that scream? What did I do to make you hate me? Just exist?
Since then I've been working on going outside more. It isn't as scary now as it was then. I went out all on my own today and applied for a number of jobs. It feels good to smile and look people in the eyes, shake their hands and introduce myself. Even if I don't get the job(s), I'm happy with myself because I tried.
I have a life. I'm doing all I can with it. With what I've been through in my life, trying and succeeding even at little tasks is more than just "enough."
I'm excelling in places I never thought I would, and that is what makes me happy.
My mom was dating this guy a while back, and he brought us up north to meet his family. His dad was an awful person, to put it nicely.
As my brother and in were waiting in the car to leave, he came over to say goodbye. He stood at my window, looked inside at me, and yelled to my mom's boyfriend, "No wonder you have a flat tire, all the weight's on this side of the car!"
I was barely 13.
When I was 10 or 11, my class split up into groups and competed to see which group could put a puzzle together the fastest. I essentially finished our group's puzzle on my own, and the boy I was working with said, "You're really smart for an ugly girl!"
It took me a long time to get over this.
I attended a small Christian elementary school with only eleven students in my class. Out of six girls, there were two Melanies. I was the tall, chubby Melanie. The other Melanie was like a golden, perfect swan.
In 5th grade, we all participated in a track and field event, and everyone started rooting for "Pretty Melanie."
I spent the next 15 years battling eating disorders.
My mom always pointed out everything that was beautiful about all of my friends, but she always called me Olive Oyl because I was skinny and uncoordinated.
My style has always been a bit alternative. Even after having my daughter at 18, I kept my look. Pink and black hair, a tattoo (planned to get more), piercings (also planning for more), the works. I had a dream of becoming an alternative model, which I thought was the epitome of beautiful. When I was 19, I had a set plan. I was going to polish myself up a bit and send in some shots.
My husband at the time told me I was crazy, and that, "No one's going to want to look at your half naked, post baby body. No one will find that attractive. I find it attractive because I love you."
That hurt me so bad, I cried myself to sleep that night.
I eventually divorced that ass, and now, eight years later, I've never been happier.
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.
