"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. 

Those Kinds of Girls

When I was about 12 years old, I was going though a rebellious phase. This meant lots of Anne Sexton poetry, flannel shirts, and awkward, uncertain attempts at trying to establish my individuality. 

One day I was at the mall with my mom, and there was a gaggle of cute, perfect cheerleader types near us. I regarded them disparagingly and said something along the lines of "Ugh, I just don't understand those kinds of girls."

Without missing a beat, my mom looked up at me and said, "Well, those are the kinds of girls that guys marry."

"The Jungle's back!"

I'm of East Indian/West Indian heritage, and growing up in Canada, I had more body hair than other girls in my class. I was often teased about it and was called hairy, gorilla, nasty and more. I was miserable because I was in middle school and my mother wouldn't let me shave. 

In seventh grade, my family went away for Christmas and my parents decided to extend our vacation by a week. The day I returned to school, I was the first one in homeroom, and was surprised that the few classmates who came in after welcomed me back. One guy came in, smiled brightly and said "Good to have you back!" Seriously, I started doubting my sanity and wondering if I had misjudged everyone all along. 

Then I heard the same kid out in the hallway by the lockers say, "Hey everyone! Guess what? The Jungle's back!" Everyone laughed like crazy as usual. 

I'm now 37 and have married and had kids. But the scars have lasted a lifetime and I still feel ugly and hairy and disgusted with myself, even though I shave and wax. I feel uncomfortable and gross inside my own body. I am withering inside. I know I should just get over it already, but I can't.

"You have too many problems."

When I was about 12, my mom and I were driving to a school event, and I told her I was scared and nervous.

I will never forget her turning around and saying, "You have too many problems. You're always complaining or crying. It would have been easier to have had another boy than you." 

At that time I had bad depression and anxiety that she did not know about, and that still makes me upset to this day.

The first time I felt like I wasn't good enough.

When I was five years old, I was sitting in my kindergarten classroom with a group of friends during coloring time. I remember we were discussing things like boyfriends, girlfriends and marriage - you know, the usual. 

I must have made a comment in regards to myself growing up and getting married, since I assumed everyone got married when they reached a certain age. The little boy sitting next to me stopped dead in his tracks, looked me in the eyes and said, “But nobody will ever want to marry you because...you’re black.”

I went home that night and must have been pretty upset because the next day my mom met with my teacher and the parent of the little boy who had made the comment. 

He was made to apologize and of course life carried on. And even though now, 20 years later, I know people have said many things a thousand times more hurtful to me, that particular moment has always stuck with me.
 

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.
 

"She's a fat ass and needs to get off the couch."

When I was 15, I overheard my mom talking to my stepdad about me. She said,  "She's a fat ass and needs to get off the couch." 

I'm 19 now, and have lost almost 100 pounds. But her words still hurt. Every time I see myself in the mirror, I never feel like I'm skinny enough.
 

Doomed to Hell

My mom once told me that before I was born, my paternal aunt wrote her a letter saying that because I was conceived out of wedlock, I was not loved by Jesus and "would ultimately be doomed to hell."

I don't actually believe in heaven or hell, but it's still not very comforting to find out that one of my close family members feels this way about me.

I wish my mom had kept this story to herself. 
 

"Good, bad, or indifferent, however you feel about them is alright."

Neither of my parents were in my life. I was raised by my maternal grandmother.

One day, when I was about 7 or 8, I remember coming to her asking why my dad and mom didn't want me. As I started to cry, my grandmother held me and said, "Honey! Honey. Listen to me. Your father and mother are the ones missing out. And they will regret it because you are an intelligent, beautiful, sweet girl who will grow into an amazing young woman. And when they do start wanting to come around and try to make amends? Good, bad, or indifferent, however you feel about them is alright. Don't let me, your aunt, your uncle, cousins, your godparents, your mother, your father, or whoever tell you how to feel."

Years later, what she said did come true. My father has apologized numerous times for not being there and so has my mother. But I'm in my prime, I'm in my 20s. And sometimes they get upset when I don't call them or talk to them as much like I do my grandmother, aunt, cousins, etc. 

But I just ignore both of them because I remember what my grandmother said all those years ago. 

"Good, bad, or indifferent, however you feel about them is alright."