This morning I posted the following to my Facebook and Instagram accounts. I stupidly assumed that fellow women would understand it, maybe even feel the same sometimes.
I am almost 29yrs old. I have been with the same man for nearly 10 yrs. I have grown and birthed two children, and although there’s been some rocky patches my body has not let me down yet.
So why do I hate it? Why does so much of my self confidence hinge on what I perceive in the mirror. Why do I pick myself apart and although I tell myself the battle wounds have come from survival and bringing life, why do I continue to find it hard to show my body love?
My self confidence issues no doubtly affect my relationship with my husband. I trust him yet I fear his gaze because of my own morphed perceptions. While he continues to tell me he loves me and everything I am I continue to throw doubt at him.
This morning he told me I am becoming too hard and too much of an effort to make feel worthy. I threw a vase of roses at him. The hardest part is not because I was angry at him but because I am so mad at myself.
He is right. It is not his fault. He does everything right. It is me not him. He does not deserve to be the victim of my self loathing. But then neither do I.
I know I am not the only woman that feels this way and experiences these feelings. I know there are more of ‘me’ out there, but why? How am I suppose to raise two future women to love themselves and to be the embodiment of self worth when I am yet to learn my own?
We all need to learn how to love ourselves and respect ourselves as we deserve. As the people we love see us. If only we could all view ourselves through their eyes for just a minute.
I thought I would be rallying a group of troops, fellow sisters to stand with me and admit that shit gets tough and we all have our bad days just like this. I wasn’t condoning my vase throwing behaviors and didn’t clarify that said vase was thrown in the sink next to where my husband was standing. He was not harmed. I don’t abuse my husband in anyway unless you count withholding sex because sometimes when I’m mad, I totally do that.
My post received a few supportive responses and some very brave admissions from fellow women about their own insecurities. I am honored that these women felt it a safe environment to share this with me. Thank you.
It also received judgement and a shit load of it. I was being sent messages and being told I clearly need psychiatric help and that I am fucken mental. My personal favourite telling me my Husband is right to have had enough of me. When I post something like this publicly I am well aware of the critique I am opening myself up to. The opinions will be different to my own and I understand a variety of views and opinions, and our right to them is what make the world such a colourful place.
What is not ok and never ok is to bully and belittle a fellow person especially if it is solely because they just don’t feel the same as you do. It is not ok to call people names, it is not ok to enforce your opinions on them or to question the mental stability of a person based on a cluster of words they were brave enough to share.
Don’t hide behind your screens and pretend you are warriors. You are not. You are tiny people with even smaller minds. In a world where I truly believe everyone deserves to be treated with respect and you probably think you deserve respect to, you are nothing. You are nothing except your actions.
Make your actions kind and kindness will be returned. If you would not say it in person don’t let your fingertips become knives. Bullying does not stop in the playground, it is an adult issue too. And, please tell me one person who hasn’t had one bad day where they felt truly awful about themselves.
I chose to put on a new dress and to go out for a bit with my family and not check my phone. I thought I was strong enough to weather the abusive messages and comments but I was not, because words are harmful. They don’t need to be yelled at a person or teamed with a swinging fist. To just read them on a screen was hurtful and heart-breaking. You don’t know me. You don’t know my story. You don’t know what I have survived or endured. Even if you did know any of this about me it still doesn’t give you any right to verbally berate someone.
Think before you type. Think before you speak. Think before you act. How are we to teach our children to be kind and to stop bullying when we are still doing and fighting it ourselves?