Insecurities

Insecurities

Insecurities are what I get for selling my body to society. Criticisms and compliments about my mind, body, and soul is the one thing I know for certain I can receive from anybody. And because the world is so big and scary, being told everything about me by someone else makes it a little less intimidating.

When I was a little girl I was always playing in the dirt with the sand between my toes because I didn’t give a damn about how dirty I became afterwards. And as I grew older I noticed how the other girls would stare at me because I had grass in my hair instead of butterfly hair pins and ribbons. Needless to say my sandbox days were over and I started to participate in the only activity guys think girls are capable of doing: talking.

And in these conversations one of my girlfriends complimented me on the curves of my legs and the dimples on my back and I couldn’t help but feel good about myself. The next day I decided to wear shorts to school for the very first time because I felt confident about my legs and to show everyone that I liked my body, but subconsciously I knew it was actually because I wanted to be noticed and hopefully get that same feeling of what I thought was happiness. Unknowingly at the age of 14 I made my first sale. I was no longer the owner of my own legs even though they are still a part of my body because I can never truly know whether they look good in these jeans or if my knees are too awkward when I stand.

See compliments are like a drug. Even if we say we don’t believe them in modesty its still the thing that gives you a little spark of joy in your chest because you were noticed for something you didn’t think was pretty. And now whenever I or majority of other girls my age pass by a large window or mirror we can’t help but sneak a glance at our reflection to check our hair, make up, and smile. This smile so we can take that perfect selfie. Because the selfie is the ticket to free drugs to feed our addiction to appease the endless insecurities and flaws that we bought to believe and in order to avoid looking selfish we blame on the hashtag white girl problems or the seventh day of the week because God forbid we post a selfie on a Tuesday because we like the way we look. But when we post pictures of ourselves solely for society to tell us if we’re pretty or that we’re fire fire fire emojis, we have sold our faces.

The day I sold the rest of my body was when someone told me my boobs were too small, that my cheeks were too chubby, that my waist was too big, that my waist was too small, that everything about me needed to be fixed. As an impressionable teenager all I wanted was to fit in. And to fit in I needed to know everything wrong and right about me and my body which no longer belongs to me and in turn made me so insecure that I lost consent of what happened to it. Without their approval I was constantly asking myself Do they like me? Am I pretty? Did I do something wrong? Why? What’s wrong with me? Get away from me…you  Loser.

Now I’m afraid of looking in the mirror because I’m afraid to see the blemishes on my skin, the scars on my arms, the fat on my thighs. All I want now is to reclaim my body and rid myself of these addictions that feed my insecurities. But its hopeless because trying to love myself is something I gave up on a long time ago. Today I’m insecure about the beauty of my body, the intelligence of my mind, the kindness of my soul. things I never had to worry about before I was sold the lie that I was not pretty.