I began losing my hair at 19. At first I thought it was just a phase. I thought it would grow back. I went to see my doctor who told me it would never grow back. I became suicidal. When I first realized it was happening, I became obsessed with hair. Suddenly, everywhere I went people were talking about hair… how they were going to bleach it, streak it, perm it, dye it. When I thought of the future I didn’t think by then I’d be doing this or by then I’d be doing that, I just thought by then… I’d be bald.
I’m now 29 and bald, and a shadow of my former confident self. A lot of people suit it but I don’t think I do. I come across as confident and bubbly with people at work, but away from work I never socialize… I don’t like to go out.
I’m in a “relationship” with a great guy I met online. I love him, but I’m using somebody else’s picture. I know it will all end in tears, but I have so little going on in my life—I’m finding it more difficult to come clean.
I’ve never been the one to take initiative when it comes to relationships. Drunken hook-ups seem to be the easiest—liquid courage is such a truthful lie; it doesn’t make me feel more confident so much as if I’m drunk I can use it as an excuse in the morning.
It’s so hard to admit that you really like someone—that you’ve liked this someone forever, but because you’re so self-conscious and lacking some major self esteem you couldn’t go for it. I wish I had been able to just put myself out there because if I had then my best friend wouldn’t be getting married to someone that isn’t me.
I don’t even have to see him every day, even after months apart at college he can make me smile, make me laugh. He makes me feel comfortable with myself and I love every second that I’m with him.
Now I have to be happy for him, and I am happy for him, but so mad at myself. Maybe it still would have all turned out the same way, but maybe it could have been completely different.
When I was younger I wanted to be a singer. As the years went by I became convinced that I wasn’t pretty enough to be one. People just mindlessly say and do things without thinking about others. Its upsetting and my self esteem is still in shambles. It has only been recently that I’ve been able to see the good in my body. I find that it helps to look at yourself as if your not you. As vague as that may be it works.
I now want to be an actress. I’ve been told that I’m pretty good. It makes makes me happy to think that other people derive some sort of enjoyment out of something I’ve done. My looks still worry me. I’m afraid they might stunt my ability to act in plays and movies but I’m still going to try. Its no use worrying about something if you can’t change it. You can only try and hope that with copious amounts of begging and bugging they’ll look at you for talent.
I still kinda want to be a singer.
All my life I have been called a freak for my skin. I have eczema. Lame, right? It’s an emotional response. When I get angry or stressed, my skin flares up and turns into red, painful, embarrassing, overbearing rash. I have no control over it.
Years of torture, pain and humiliation have taught me to be strong, patient and to love myself regardless of the world. Now that I have come to terms with that, my father comments on my ”muffin top” calling me fat and asking me if I really need to eat that. Hurdle number two, coming right up.
I wanted to believe there was more to me than meets the eye. Like I could be bigger and badder than anyone out there. I could come out on top, not in the nasty sense. But in the sense that I’d be someone who people could look up to. But I guess it doesn’t seem to matter. I care too much about what people think, I have lost myself. People see me for the disease I bare on my arms, the disease I’m trying to rid myself of without medicine. They call me beautiful, they call me brave, stupid, and strong. While they can see the pain, they don’t have to feel it. It’s easy to feel bad for someone, but you know you wouldn’t want to be in their shoes anyway…
I’m young and inexperienced. My emotions fluctuate more often than the sun rises. I am extremely self-conscious.
A year ago, I met a girl that fixed all of this; she fixed me. I fell so madly in love with her that I didn’t even know how to cope with my rapidly progressing feelings.
I’m a girl.
She is “incapable” of being attracted to me.
I can only hope she finds someone to fix her too.