I Am Not Pretty

Short, curvy, a belly that has this ugly pouch, that I just can't seem to get rid of, big breasts, curly hair, small butt, vampire pale...This is how I am built. I'm not pretty. People tell me all the time how pretty I am. I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I sure as hell am not pretty. The only thing I have going for me are my eyes that change color, so that they match whatever outfit I am wearing. I want to wear green; my eyes match my outfit. It's the only thing that I would consider pretty about my body. Today's society tells a girl how she should look: Tall, tan, small breast, toned butt, and deathly skinny. You have to be a size 00 to be considered beautiful anymore. UGH!! Why can't I just be pretty...

9th grade is when this body dysmorphia started. I was skinny before this, deathly skinny. I was never a size double 0, but I was a 0. No breasts, no butt, tiny, pretty face. I was put on some medication for my heart, and it caused me to gain weight. I went from 95lbs to 125lbs basically overnight. That's going to cause body dysmorphia in anybody. I used to not have to wear a bra, I had what you would consider mosquito bites. I jumped to a c cup in less than a week. I hated having boobs. I hated that I had a tummy. I hated myself. Why did I have to be sick?

I covered up all the mirrors. I weighed myself three, four, five times a day, I starved myself, I worked out every chance I got. 9th grade...God, I despised 9th grade...growing up watching America's Next Top Model, I had an idea stuck in my head what beauty meant. Doing a lot of research about the perfect weight for somebody my age and height, and finding out that I was now overweight...it destroyed my self-image. My confidence went out the window. I just had to lose this weight, no matter what. I tried everything I could think of, but I just kept gaining weight.

9th grade came and gone, and I still couldn't get rid of any of this weight. 125 turned to 130, then 135, then 140, then 145, then 150. What was I doing wrong? I wasn't eating, I was making myself vomit when I did eat, I was working out, but it wasn't working. I started hiding my body in baggy clothes. I didn't care what the weather was, I always had on baggy sweat pants, and a hoodie 2 sizes too big, the bigger the clothes, the smaller I looked. There was no hiding these huge melons that were now on my chest though. A 5-foot girl with DD breasts? That was the very first thing people would notice about me. I got a lot of attention, and I hated it. I still hate attention.

I struggled all though high school. I told nobody. I always "shared" my lunches with my best friend, she could never afford lunch, and I got lunch free, so she always ate half, if not all of my lunch. I was never really "hungry", even if I was starving, I acted like I wasn't. I don't think anybody really even noticed, so on top of being breathtakingly ugly, I am now somebody nobody cares about. I could kill myself today, and nobody would miss me. Maybe I should. It would make everything easier for everybody. I started planning.

I could just pop all of my pills, I mean, they are supposed to slow my heart down, even if it doesn't kill me, it would surely put me into a pretty intense coma, right? I could wait till I'm home alone, and just slit my wrists so deep that there's no coming back from it. What would happen if I just stopped eating all together? What is it? 3 days? That could work. I had several plans, just in case the first thought didn't work. I went to my girlfriend's house one night. A bottle of pain killers, on top of a bottle of alcohol, on top of not eating for three days. Finally. It's going to happen; I was finally at peace. Is this what happy feels like? Man, it has been way too long since I felt this way. I ended up getting sick. I woke up the next morning.

Wow. I can't even kill myself the right way. Am I that big of a failure? School drags on. I have completely stopped eating. My girlfriend and I are arguing. I'm cutting myself more. I can't stand to look at myself. Still, nobody knows. What is wrong with me? I just don't care about anything anymore. This goes on through college. I am a photography student. I can't find the beauty in me, but I will make sure everybody else feel beautiful. I love being behind the camera. It's where I feel I belong. I love this form of art. I am finally starting to feel good about myself a little. Am I finally starting to love myself?