June 13, 2011

In a world of flying butterflies ...


While thinking of the past and how much simpler life was back then (think childhood … early teens) I decided to start looking at some old pictures and try to transport myself to those years where my only schedule was to get up early and run outside to play with my friends, when getting in trouble at school was because I wouldn’t share my coloring pencils (I had a set of 72 Prismacolor coloring pencils that came in 3 clear cases … it was perfection) when I didn’t have a cell phone and social networks were my schoolmates to whom I would hand-make pretty cards and letters to, when I didn’t care if a boy liked me, nor if anyone would judge me, the times when I used to hold my mom’s hand while walking in the mall, when I would play cassettes .. When I didn’t care how I looked.
People always change … your relationships with people, always change but your memories never will, therefore looking at those pictures was so important, so needed.
While looking at them though, I started to think on how careless I was of my “look’s” or lack of them for that matter … I had some shapeless eyebrows, crazy arm hairs and somehow was too “skinny”, never had a tan/glow in my skin nor the crazy curly hair everyone envied back then, but even so I was happy with the way I looked, I actually never cared.  I can’t say if it was confidence or just lack of realization that society wanted me to look different; I never thought about calories, clothing size, comparing myself to other girls and obviously not waxing. I wouldn’t worry about eating “unhealthy” in fact people around me would call me “skinny” so often that I always thought I was doing them a favor while I would chub an entire burger. I was “me” and only me … only one, so why worry about it? I would never look at people and see their appearance or their clothes’ brand (unless they were wearing bright color Reebok's … then we had a subject of conversation).
But one day everything changed, I can’t really tell you why or how, but it did.. It could have been that other people where growing and realizing differences then, or the media was more accessible and demanding or the mirror was actually a noticeable item at my house … maybe the family’s conversations about material beauty .. who knows, but everything inside me changed. 
I started to worry, compare my looks to other’s, wishing having completely different features (yes the blond hair and blue eyes concept of beauty were the only ones allowed in my country’s mentality at the time … so sad since the majority of the population don’t look that way … in America we have fat people, in Colombia we have brunettes) and diet.  I began to try to “fix” myself and once it started, it spread through me like a flame on dry wood.  I began to hate my body, hate my face, hate that I felt invisible, hate that I wasn’t perfect.  And that hatred started a constant battle with self teem and doubt, later on in life this develop into an eating disorder (it was literally a disorder since it didn’t follow any of the “usual” eating disorders) and this of course, caused that Body Dysmorphic Disorder developed and I now have to admit, it’s never left my life completely … I still struggle with accepting a compliment and honestly believing other people’s positive perception of the way I look, it’s just hard for me to truly see it (I don’t seek attention and honestly feel uncomfortable when I get it …)
Recently I started to understand that this condition might be the reason why I push people away sometimes and why I don’t truly believe someone can openly and completely love ME. That is something I’m slowly working on and attempting to conquer as I did with the eating disorder, but has caused a lot of tears …. I assumed that the BDD had been beat alongside the eating disorder, but these things do not exist exclusively together, one of them can linger and even hide for a while, only to resurface when lease expected. So while I now eat with no problems and have done it for years, I still hate looking in the mirror or pictures because I cannot do it without the fiercest of criticism.  The reflection I see is vastly different from what others see; it’s very sad when some people think this is a case of false modesty or fishing for compliments (the ones who truly don’t know me would think that), when really it comes from a far darker, sadder place. 
For this reason I’ve decided to have a life-long goal of self-acceptance and valuing the internal over the external. It’s frustrating for those around me sometimes and it’s certainly torture for me to live with… but as I grow and learn some from this life, I’m confident that one day I’ll go back to those years and just smile and DON’T GIVE A SHIT!
I’ve met many beautiful women, some even famous, but I have yet to meet a woman 100% confident in every inch of their bodies or faces- just look at the money being made on beauty companies and plastic surgery procedures (C’mon girls are freezing their face muscles with stuff like Botox at the age of 25 … you are paralyzing your freaking face, since when is muscle atrophy healthy???!!!) Some of the most beautiful women out there have lower than low self-esteem- probably because once you’re known for your beauty, you have to maintain it as is deeply connected to your self-worth, specially in today’s society where everything is materialized, everything is tangible.
I know that so many people have issues with themselves they may not like to acknowledge or talk about with others.  But admitting them is the first step to overcoming them- so here I am, posting the longest and most personal post yet, confessing to the world (OK to the 3 people who may read this) a deep struggle, it only took 30 years to realize is not a unique struggle, is not a privilege nor a curse to have … it’s a freaking challenge that would only make me stronger and that in great length makes me the woman I am today. 


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