"Heck of an arm."

In fourth grade, I attended Carnival Day at school. I tried to dunk one of the teachers in the dunk tank, but I couldn't quite hit the target. When my turn was over, I walked away, and a man came up to me and introduced himself as a local little league coach. He asked me, "Do you know you have a heck of an arm there? Do you play for any team?" I told him no, and he strongly encouraged me to come to tryouts. I told my mom when I got home, but nothing ever came of it. 

Looking back, I'm sure I would have loved playing ball, but it was that compliment that stuck with me. My home was a very angry place to grow up. I never got compliments or encouragement really of any kind. We were either invisible, or in trouble and getting screamed at. I vividly remember just about every compliment I ever received as a child because of the feeling of empowerment it gave me. Those compliments became my identity.

You never know what a person has to deal with in their life. Just be nice, always. Your kind words might be what sticks with someone else.
 

"You're getting too big for this!"

When I was 7 or 8, my really tall uncle came to visit. Every time he came over, he would pick me and each one of my siblings up, and we would feel like we were on top of the world.

This time, he tried picking me up and said, "Whoa, you're getting too big for this!"

It was an innocent enough comment, but it was the first time I was ever aware of my size, and that I was too large or heavy to do something, even though I was a perfectly normal size for a 7/8 year old. For some reason, it's always stuck with me. 

I can't help but wonder if his comment somehow sparked or contributed to my ever persistent body insecurities.
 

"I don't know what you expected, wearing that dress."

I went to a family friend's birthday cocktail party with my parents a few years ago. I was wearing a full length, summery black dress, and since it was pretty revealing in the bust, I wore a camisole underneath to cover up as much cleavage as possible. 

While at the party, the family friend's uncle drunkenly sauntered over to me and started making gross comments about how attractive I was. Trying to get rid of him, I started talking about my parents, and he LEERED at me (like, actually leered...it was surreal), saying, "Oh you're HER daughter? You're much more attractive...like your mom is NOT hot," and waggled his eyebrows at me. I was so disgusted, I think I just turned around and left. 

Afterwards, I told my parents about it and how creeped out and uncomfortable I was with the whole situation. My dad then said, "I don't know what you expected, wearing that dress." I was stunned. 

I told him I thought that was pretty unfair since A) I covered up and cannot help my chest size, which is unavoidably, proudly prominent no matter what and B) it would have been perfectly easy for Pervy McPerv to NOT be disgusting, and I am not going to be shamed for my body because some lush forty years my senior can't handle mixing his booze with his boner pills.THAT'S what you have to say to me after HE was totally nasty about Mom?!?! Also I JUST WANTED SOME GODDAMN PUNCH, NOT A REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE MEMORY THAT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I AM COVERED IN SLIME! 

Well. I said the first part.

My dad never apologized for that comment. I am still furious about it. I don't think he even remembers it.

Ugh.
 

"You're not depressed."

One night last year, after I had been self harming for months, I came out of the shower to find my mum staring at my arms and legs. 

She hit me and shouted, "You're not depressed. You're an attention seeking wee bitch." 

That hurt so much, because I really needed professional help at that point in my life. 

Emotions Are Valid

My ex-boyfriend once called me a "cry baby" for being too worried about school, my family, my appearance, etc. 

The next time I cried in front of him was five months later, when I dumped him.
 

"It's not your fault."

It was a few days after my 16th birthday, and I had some birthday money. My mom took me to the mall to get some clothes that I needed, and we stopped at a makeup store to get my acne face wash. After seeing how much it was, I decided that I wasn't in dire need, and that I didn't want to spend the remainder of my money on it.

My mom has had an ongoing addiction to narcotics, and I considered this day to be one of her good days. But something in her changed when I said I didn't want to buy the face wash. She grabbed my hand and forced me out of the store, yelling at me and telling me how ungrateful I was. I told her I wasn't being ungrateful, and she hit me hard in front of everyone. I was left alone, a crumpled mess of embarrassment, while she stormed off.

She yelled that she was going to get the car, so I waited. It took her over a half an hour, so I thought she forgot about me. It turned out, she was so mad and messed up from the narcotics that she ran her car into someone else's car. When I got in the car, she told me that it was my fault that she was so mad and that she hit someone's car.

I called my dad, broken. I didn't know what to say. 

The one thing I will never forget is my dad telling me, "It's not your fault. It was never your fault." 

And to this day, I still believe him. It's never your fault.
 

"Those shorts are too short."

When I was 9, I was in a Dollar Tree with my mother. She left me alone in the makeup section to browse. Behind me there was a couple in their late 20s. I was minding my own business, when out of nowhere my mother pulled me away and said, "That man was staring at your ass."

This was the very first time that anything like this had ever happened to me, and I thought it was gross. 

However, what got me more upset was when my mom said, "You shouldn't wear shorts that short anymore." 

Victim blaming much, mom? My skin exposure shouldn't be an excuse for anyone to ogle at me. 

To this day, I am sometimes still ashamed to show too much skin, because no matter what I chose to do with my body, I remember that someone will see it as an invite to do what they please.  Whenever I wear shorts, those words ring in my head. 

I will never slut shame my future daughter, and even more importantly, my son will learn how to act politely and respectfully to women.
 

"You're going to be a failure."

One time my mom took my sister and me to the beach, and she dropped us off while she went to look for parking. Once she had found a parking spot, she texted me to meet her and lead her to the spot where we were sitting. Since it was a particularly crowded day, I had some trouble finding the spot where we'd set up. 

It wasn't long before she started exploding at me, calling me retarded for not being able to find where we were sitting. Even after I started crying, she continued to insult me. The worst thing she said was, "You'll never make it in college because you can't even do the simplest of tasks. You're going to be a failure." 

She never once apologized for how she treated me. 

Now that I'm a freshman in college, I suffer from depression and anxiety because of fear of failing or messing up anything I do. 

Dunce Voice

I was never the best at math, and I didn't quite have a loving home environment (I still don't). 

On day, I brought home an "F" from math class. I already felt low about it; who feels good about failing? My parents (predictably) got upset, but what really stuck with me was my father mocking me. He followed me around the house, into my room, saying in a "dunce" voice, "Duuuuhhh. I'm (my name), I'm smart enough to get Fs. Duuuuuuuuhhh." 

I had already been in tears, but that pushed me over. 

Sadly, that wasn't the first time that my father verbally abused me, and it still happens to this day. But that time really stuck, and it still pierces my heart.
 

"You ain't worth a quarter."

My dad and I get into arguments all the time. He'll get mad at the littlest things and explode. 

His favorite sayings are, "You're worthless" and "You ain't worth a quarter."

Sometimes I start to believe him.