15 June 2015
All my life, I’ve struggled with my own self-image. I’ve been told time and again I’m unimportant. People scoff, saying I’m naïve in my hopes and beliefs, especially when I see the best in people.
As a little girl, I looked on everyone as a potential friend. I opened my heart and hugged hello’s, welcoming people into my life if they wanted to take part. Some did, and I treasured them. Many did not; instead, a large group targeted me for my sensitivity. They ridiculed and harassed with contradictions.
Every young girl experiences doubts about their looks, and my classmates dredged up every insecurity until I believed myself hideous and unlovable. Worse, I questioned my intelligence and worth, despite evidence to the contrary. My poor mother worked to combat my negative feelings. I hadn’t many friends, because believing myself worthless, I found no…
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