Too hairy.

A few months ago I was dating a guy who always told me that I was too hairy and that no one would love me.

These comments stuck to me like glue.

I asked one of my closest friends what he thought and his only response was, "Well you are really hairy, but I love you, so only one of those things is correct."

It hurt knowing that two people who were very important to me thought this. I constantly wondered who else thought this was true.

Shortly after my friend's comment I broke up with the guy and stopped talking to my friend.

Then I started dating another guy but never asked him if I was too hairy until today. His answer? "No." 

"Big"

When I was in high school I wasn't attractive. I had fuzzy hair and acne. I had a pension for Marilyn Manson and black eyeliner. I wasn't trendy or popular. I didn't get asked out. I had average grades and excelled at seemingly nothing except science.

There were two stoner girls I always worked with in class. They were slim and pretty and nice enough. They liked me because I knew the answers and came up with the most interesting projects.

One day as I was walking into school I overheard them talking about me to someone in my class that, unsurprisingly, didn't know my name. They described me with the usual descriptors I was used to: fuzzy hair, goth.

But then they added in one that was new: big.

I took it to heart because it was a new jab, a new problem.

I confronted them later, and they explained that they meant no harm, as I am nearly 6 feet tall.

But my life from that point on revolved around my weight.

I ate 600 calories a day and worked out 3 hours a day for nearly 4 years. I spent the entirety of my adult life struggling with my weight.

I'm 30 now. I've been in and out of treatment. I don't know if I'll ever be all right with myself.

"But you're still pretty"

One day during my senior year of high school, I woke up late for school and came in with no eye makeup on. A girl who sat in front of me in class said, "You're not wearing any makeup?" I said no, and she replied, "But you're still pretty." 

She said it with such disbelief and question in her voice, like she couldn't understand why I wasn't ugly. 

It made me feel so awkward and uncomfortable. Seven years later it still comes to my mind.

"I know you stole this"

When I was 9, I would hang out with this girl all the time. We were the same age and our moms were the same age, so we would all hang out and go to barbecues and stuff. 

I remember one day going over to their house and overhearing my friend's mother talking about a really important necklace of hers that had gone missing. She described it in detail.

When I went to use the bathroom, I remember picking up some stuffed animal, and I saw that her necklace was right under it! I was so proud to have found it, and I knew she was going to be so happy that I found it for her. 

When I excitedly told her that I found it in the bathroom, she looked at me and said, "I know you stole this." 

I remember trying to say,  "No I actually found it... " and she just interrupted and said, "No you definitely stole this. You look like the type to steal."

I was just so upset. I thought she was going to be happy with me. 

And for some reason, 14 years later I still think about that day.

"That's a perfectly acceptable thing for her to say"

My group of middle school girlfriends consisted of five of us total. The other four would often pair up against me in subtle but intentional ways, like ordering two Caesar salads at Cheesecake Factory for each pair to split while laughing at the fact that I was left out.

One day the five of us were hanging out with my longtime childhood friend who went to a different school, and we were all joking about how we wanted to violate all of the school rules on the last day of middle school, because there would be no consequences.

One of them joked that she'd wear a spaghetti strap tank top with her bra straps showing. Another said that she'd wear a miniskirt. I chimed in and said that I would wear like three hats.

There was an awkward silence and they all stared at me.

One of them said, "Ummm....ok..."

My childhood friend immediately reacted to this. "Whoa, why are you acting like that to her? Hats are also not allowed in school. That's a perfectly acceptable thing for her to say."

My friends didn't know how to react. They had never encountered someone standing up for me, since I had never done it myself.

It took this simple declaration from my old friend to really put into perspective how unfairly my middle school friends treated me for no reason.

Once we got to high school, we all parted ways.

"It's the end."

My mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer on Father's Day 2014.

Before and still shortly after her diagnosis, I didn't know how cancer worked. I wasn't sure what the stages mean't, I only knew that stage 4 mean't the cancer was really bad.

The months after her diagnosis my family heard, "I'm sorry" and "I've been praying for you" and the like.

My mom was only given 6-9 months to live, but my mom and the rest of my family had faith that she wouldn't "give up that easy." We were very positive after getting the diagnosis and everyone knew that.

But one day, out of the blue, about three months after the diagnosis, I was at work and a woman that I was actually pretty close to outside of work said, "You understand stage 4 means your mom's dead, like it's the end."

I remember those words so vividly. Even a year and a half later, they still bring tears to my eyes.

However, my mother is still fighting her fight and has been surprising her doctors on a regular basis. So no, her diagnosis wasn't the end.

"People are so mean to her, it's like not even funny"

One day in middle school, I was at my friend's house while she was chatting on AOL with this really popular girl. The popular girl asked what my friend was up to, and my friend said, jokingly, that she was hanging out with me, which is such a drag. 

The popular girl replied, "Lol, people are so mean to her, it's like not even funny."

There was an awkward silence between my friend and me, and we told the girl that my friend was joking, and that I was actually sitting right there. The popular girl scrambled for something to say to recover herself, but it was too late.

Her words had already stuck with me.

The thing is, I didn't know that everyone was mean to me. I knew I wasn't popular, but I thought I was sort of off the radar at best. The idea that "everyone" was mean to me behind my back, and that this was common knowledge, really hit me hard. 

It's been 15 years, and this memory is still as vivid as ever.

"You could die for all I care"

It was my sophomore year in high school. I was a cheerleader, I had the best of friends in the world and my grades were awesome. What could possibly make this year anything less than awesome? How naive I was.

About halfway through the year, my best friend and I got into a huge fight. So bad that it made me contemplate suicide.

When someone tells you, "You could die for all I care," you start to think about things in a different light.

After our falling out, my life starting to change drastically. I started to see myself differently. I hated so many things about myself. I started to notice how big my nose was. How my bottom teeth are crooked. How my stomach isn't flat. How thin and brittle my hair was. I started to pick apart all these things that I hated about myself all of a sudden. All because someone who I thought loved me told me she wouldn't care if I was dead.

I am now 21. That girl and I are no longer friends. And I no longer let what people say about me get to me. Because I love myself and that's all that matters.

Loser.

I was in high school and we were on our way to a volleyball game. I turned to one of the gals on my team and ask if I could have her number in case of practice changes etc. She told me she doesn't give her number to losers. I didn't talk to anyone else the rest of the night.

"What does this remind you of?"

When I was in middle school, a few girls who I had grown up with and used to be friends with started being mean to me.

One day around Christmas, we were on the bus on our way home from school. I had bushy and thick eyebrows at the time because of my heritage. One of the girls, who was wearing a fuzzy rimmed Santa hat, came up to me and stared at me for a second, and started pointing at my eyebrows. She then pointed to the rim of the hat and said, "What does this remind you of?"

She immediately started laughing with a few other girls as they exited the bus. 

I was embarrassed and ashamed. I asked my mom to take me to get my brows done. I was still unhappy with the results, and now, at 26 years old, I obsessively style my eyebrows myself.

I have gotten a lot of good compliments about them, but in the back of my mind, they have to be "perfect."