Saturday, January 1, 2011

A fresh start & Day 1

A new year. A new blog. A new me. No wait, scratch that. The real me.

After much time spent contemplating whether I should completely erase my blog and start over or not, I just went ahead and did it. I read through old posts and found them irrelevant and boring. Too forced. Not me at all.

I’m starting off 2011 fresh now. I’m ready to commit and express myself and be honest. I don’t have to live this fake cookie cutter life to fit in. Having problems is normal. Being imperfect is the norm. The “stepford life” is not me, and never will be me, and that’s ok. I am totally ok with that, and I can accept that.

So I thought it would be fun to start off the new year with the 30 Days of Truth Challenge.

Lets begin shall we?

Day 1: Something you hate about yourself.

I had to sit and think about this one for a while. Like most people, there are quite a few things I don’t really like about myself. I’m impulsive and it sometimes gets me in trouble. I procrastinate. I’m forgetful. I’m sometimes quite selfish. But something I hate about myself. Hate is a strong word. So it must be something I truly despise about myself and have no control over, and no way to change or fix it.

I hate how insecure I am.

It gets in the way. Sometimes it keeps me from speaking my mind and from standing up for myself. It keeps me from being a young confident woman. I am constantly second guessing myself and it drives me crazy. I’m always worried about saying the wrong thing. Or saying something that someone else might not agree with or like.

It’s annoying, and it sucks. I hate feeling so self-conscious all the time. There’s a girl that I work with and I envy her like you can’t believe. This girl seriously will say anything, and I mean anything, that crosses her mind. She’s so confident and doesn’t sit around trying to please people all the time. Same with my husband. He really doesn’t care what people think of him at all. He will just say whatever he wants whenever he wants.

There’s a reason for all of this insecurity though. Growing up, I was an ugly duckling. No joke. I have awful AWFUL skin, my hair was a frizzy out of control mess, I wore hideous clothes, I was sickly skinny, and I had no idea how to do my makeup. Whenever I attempted, it was usually caked on and clown like. It was terrible. All of my friends however were gorgeous and popular. They always tried to help me and make me feel better, but there was really no helping me. I was a lost cause. I got really depressed in junior high school. All my friends were having their first kisses and first boyfriends, and I couldn’t get a guy to look my direction. People laughed at me, made fun of me. I remember one time one of the popular boys at school called me pizza face in front of a group of people. I was mortified.

I remember contemplating suicide and crying myself to sleep almost every night. My parents took me to the dermatologist what seemed like weekly, but none of the acne medications worked. Finally at the end of my 8th grade year they put me on a very serious medication called acutane. It made my eyes blood shot all the time and dried my skin and lips out horribly. My skin would literally flake off all day long and my lips were so badly cracked they would bleed. I had to get my blood drawn once a month to make sure everything was ok. This medicine was no joke. Sure, it had it’s negative effects, but it also changed my life. I hibernated the summer before high school. While on the medication I couldn’t be exposed to too much sunlight because my skin would burn so badly.

I asked my sister to take my school clothes shopping the week before I was to start high school. I had always dressed terribly and wanted her to help me look girly and cute. I so badly wanted boys to like me. I remember meeting my friends at the local coffee shop the morning of my big day. They couldn’t believe their eyes. My skin was clear and beautiful. I learned how to use a flat iron and my natural blonde hair was sleek and smooth and incredibly long. My sister showed me how to apply makeup and helped me pick out the perfect outfit for my first day of high school. I was an entirely new person.

So although my story may have a happy ending, those years of depression and being made fun of still effect me now at 23. My years of shame and embarrassment have left me insecure, not as much as I was at 14, but still insecure and I’m not sure if it will ever be completely gone. Especially now that I’ve had a baby and am learning to deal with my post partum body.

So there you have it. Something I hate about myself. Feel free to join me in the 30 days of truth challenge!

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