I know that my body is a vessel for housing my consciousness and what is important is how it takes care of me and carries me through life. But god, sometimes it's hard not to become completely overwhelmed by my hatred for it. All of it. I really, really, really, really, don't like my body.
My face is completely wrong. Sometimes I feel like its not even my face. Sometimes I feel like it's too much of my face. I can't stand it. I can't stand any of it. The only things I like are my piercings, and they aren't even a part of my actual body. It's sickening. Sometimes I can't even bear to look at it.
My entire torso is... terrible. I genuinely cannot stand it. And it's not even just always the dysphoria where it feels like I'm the wrong sex. Even when I feel more female than usual I can't stand my body. And then there's the fear that if I started testosterone and transitioned I'd still hate my body. That maybe I'd hate it even more. I don't know if I'd be able to handle that. Especially since I'm not always male, either.
I have lots of scars. Lots. The only one I like is the one under my lip, and right now I don't even like that because it's a part of my face. There's one on my hip from when I was skateboarding down a hill and completely wiped the fuck out. There was legitimately a hole in my side there for weeks. It was disgusting. And now there's a weird bump thing. It's not t h a t bad. But it could be better. I get that scars show stories and stories are important to our journey through life, but I like the story and not the mark. I don't know why I have to be marked by only my painful stories.
I can't really get into talking about my butt. It genuinely makes me want to die. I used to cut it back when I used to cut myself, because nobody would ever look there. And now there are scars and stretch marks and it's not even great regardless of the marks because I have weird body proportions and I don't eat right and oh god okay I need to stop this part.
My vagina is. Well. A vagina. It's okay by vagina standards, I guess. Right now it feels like nothing should be there at all. And yet, there is. And. I don't know. It feels wrong. Sometimes it feels like a penis should be there, but my self esteem is already so low that I feel bad about a hypothetical penis I don't even have.
I know that the way I feel is largely largely largely due to societal standards and images I've internalized from the media, but that doesn't mean I currently feel any different. Just because these views have been somewhat forced upon me doesn't make them any less real to me. They're problems I have and I hate when people dismiss them by telling me that it's just society, or they try to make me feel better by telling me they like my body/features/whatever but not actually addressing my concerns. I don't even really talk to people about this anymore. One, because I don't like people knowing I always have such crippling low self esteem where sometimes I want to lock myself into a room and never let anyone ever see me again. And two, because putting this problem on someone who is completely unequipped to help me is just setting the both of us up for failure, and I can't expect anyone to be able to help me except for myself.
It's late right now, and I'm tired, and I really need to sleep. But I can't because I'm overwhelmed by my body and it's existence and my consciousness at all.
I only like my body because sometimes it's the recipient of affection directed towards me physically. But sometimes even getting touched in acts of caring makes me want to shrink and pop into nothingness because I don't want anyone to ever feel how disgusting my body is.
