After I revealed to one of my closest friends that I have slept with over fifteen men since college, her 'helpful' response was, "You have the makings of a good person. Really, you do!"
In a friendship built on trust and sharing, this comment really struck me. I didn't see myself as a bad person then, nor do I now.
But I struggle with the levels of judgement I now fear my trusted friends will inflict on me if I tell them the full truth of my life.
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.
I was in one of my last semesters of nursing school with a teacher who was known to play favorites. We were doing a simulation on a mannequin, and I had to start an IV with supplies I wasn't familiar with. I stopped for a moment to look at the equipment, and the teacher said to everyone, "That's the kind of nurse we do this to!" She then proceeded to push me aside and do the simulation herself.
I dropped her class the next day and then went on to become an amazing nurse.
I so clearly remember the day that I started self-hating that it almost hurts to think about.
I had eaten a stupid chocolate bar that my mom had been saving to eat later. It wasn't the first time I'd done this. She walked in to the kitchen and yelled, "What the hell are you eating now?! You're always eating! You're too fat! You need to go on a diet!"
Now, two years later, I have depression and anxiety, although she (along with the rest of my family) has failed to realize it. Every time I look in a mirror, the only thing running through my head is that stupid comment made by my own mother.
Please think about what you say to your kids. They remember every word you say to them, even when you don't.
My mom told me recently: "Do me a favor, if you're going to kill yourself, do it where I won't find you."
I started seeing a therapist about a year ago. One of the main issues we talked about was how I felt like the supporting character in everyone's life, and how I sacrifice my own needs to make others happy.
At one point, she accidentally called me by the name of a friend of mine who we had been discussing. The therapist didn't catch her mistake, so I corrected her. Instead of apologizing for her own mindless slip and moving on, she said, "It's so interesting how you seem to be fading into the background in relationships and having your friends overpower you, even in our session."
It made me so angry that this therapist used her own absentminded word mixup as some sort of brilliant revelation of how I am inherently someone who is less important and prominent in relationships. I could tell that she was so pleased with herself for making this connection.
Of course, knowing what you already know about me, it took me six months to finally stand up for myself and leave this therapist for good.
One day when I was 11 and in 6th grade, everyone was in the hallway switching between classes, and a kid I thought was my friend told me to go kill myself.
Seven other classmates who were around agreed loudly and high-fived the original guy for saying what they were thinking.
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.
