The Secret Ingredient To Beauty: Self-Love

Introduction: My Story

"Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful"

-Sophia Loren

I often wonder why do I have to feel beautiful when it is said from someone else's mouth? Why do I need to be pleasing to a man's eye in order to be called beautiful? And why am I not allowed to stick the label beautiful on my forehead myself rather than needing permission from someone else?

In 7th grade, my friend has shown me a social media account. Surprisingly, that account had my name in it. Even more shocking, it was someone pledging their love to me, or at least I thought so.

As a 7th grader, you would usually feel sheer excitement someone has acknowledged you. Moreover, he had feelings for me. Even if I didn't intend of being romantically involved with him. However, that boy ends up being the lowest period of my life.

The boy has followed all of my classmates and friends on social media. I was dying from the curiosity of who he was since he has yet to reveal his name. I was naive in thinking that this boy liked me. I was also naive believing that just sitting still and looking pretty gets all the boys (or girls) coming to you. I was naive in thinking I even needed romance in my life to become popular and wanted. In middle school, I wanted nothing more than to be accepted by everyone and loved by everyone.

This boy started to message everyone I knew. And what was written in those texts, made the way I felt about myself cripple down into nothing. He would send his sexual fantasies to all of whom I knew. Thoughts that didn't even occur in my mind at the age of 13. I wanted to be genuinely liked by a boy, not to be used as a sexual ploy in his fantasies.

Before I take a shower, I attempted to look at myself in the mirror, and it didn't even last 2 seconds before I turned my head away in disgust. Although I have done nothing wrong, I still felt like a tramp. It made me feel worse knowing that my friends have read his fantasies but have done nothing about it. What was even worse is that I had to beg my supposed best friend to report him.

One of my seniors, who was on the people whom the boy messaged, was trying to figure out who he is. However, the odds of knowing his identity was a failure.

My exams were coming near, yet he still has not stopped. The words he sent were repeating in my head. Over and over again. And each time it repeated, my self-esteem and confidence hit rock bottom. Some of you may think this is very sad. Some of you may think that this doesn't compare to what you faced. Maybe you have faced (or facing) a lot more than me, but every person has a limit to what they can take.

Soon my exam came rolling in and I must say. I was terrible. I couldn't focus and once the results came out, I felt even worse. My mother wasn't aware of what's happening since I didn't want to worsen her health condition during that period. My father was not living with us due to his job in another country to support us.

During school, I knew I needed to talk to someone, and I desperately needed someone to make sure I don't have to face him again. I went looking for the school's guidance counselor with one of my friends (since I was afraid to go alone), and to my demise, she was having lunch. My friends suggested I should speak to our classroom teacher but we weren't able to find her either. In the end, I ended up speaking to our school coordinator. I did my best to hold my tears while explaining the situation.

Although the coordinator did not affect the situation immensely, except for informing my parents, it helped me feel more emotionally stable after talking about what happened with an adult.

Furthermore, after I talked to the coordinator, the boy messaging to whom I can no longer show my face too. I am not sure how the torment ended, but I have heard that my senior told him that I was crying. I settled with the idea that my sob episode induced him to stop, but I still feel dubious about it.

However, when it ended, I was in peace. Although it bothered me at times that I never found out who he was, but I ended up being grateful. I was scared that I would hate him so much that his face will never leave my mind. If I knew who he was, I was terrified of who I would become. If it was someone I knew, I might never be able to trust. If he was someone I never met, I won't be able to meet new people and create new relationships.

If I were given the option to remove this point in my life, I wouldn't take it. Even if the experience was horrible and practically scared me, it helped me change as a person, become more confident in myself. Moreover, it helped me strengthen my relationship with my parents. Most of all, I became a stronger human who loved herself.