Insecurities

As someone who is currently in the 7th grade (commonly referred to as the worst year) I can say, with full sincerity, that people were completely right. It’s a school year that consists of fake friends, bullying behind your back, grade-wide ridicule, and being made fun of just for who you are. I’m so glad I managed to find friends who are good people, but, even at that, my friend group definitely isn’t always perfect at times. In short, 7th grade is a period of your life that’s full of hardships that just seem like they keep coming. 

When I was young, I was bullied quite a bit (physical appearance, dumb stuff like that), and that was something that continued into my adolescence, and, often times, I wonder how my life would’ve been if it didn’t. I didn’t look like anybody, and that was the problem, at least, in my 10 year old mind.  

I looked different. 

And people didn’t like that. 

It’s hard growing up in a world that doesn’t seem to, or has fully come to terms with, people that don’t look exactly like them. Because, regardless of how well I did in my classes or the nice people I met, especially this year, the insecurities never left. 

You’re annoying. 

My mind would say. 

You’re ugly. 

My mind would say. 

Your friends don’t really like you. 

My mind would say. 

It was constant verbal assault, except, it wasn’t from anybody in particular.. 

It was words from my mind. They were words from me. 

Feeling this way about myself interrupted parts of my daily life, like my ability to talk in front of others, my attitude at school, my attitude at home, even things as significant as my mental health. 

As long as my mind kept running with these awful words, the sadness would never stop. 

I like to refer to the beginning of the seventh grade my lowest point of all time, mentally I mean. I hated myself in every way, and I clutched tightly to my friends, people who, as much as I love them, shouldn’t be burdened with the responsibility of helping me through such a horrid time. 

And that’s where insecurities really seem to stick out.  

Insecurities can start from young ages, because, when things you never thought of about yourself are consistently pointed out to you constantly in a negative connotation, you begin to wonder if you should have those things. Though, the problem is, most insecurities are unchangeable. 

Like your appearance. 

Like your smile. 

Like your voice. 

There’s nothing, to me, that is more awful than trying to trigger these sorts of things for people, especially at a point in time like the 7th grade, where everybody is trying to find their footing. Some, obviously, do better than others, but its usually those people that seem to have the most hatred in their heart. Because the only way to deal with a problem, for most people, is not to face it head on, but to simply distract yourself.  

By putting down others, by putting down others on the basis of the way they look, you can escape having to face your own issues.  

Luckily, I was never someone who resorted to such a coping mechanism. Instead, my insecurities turned to self-hatred, which, in itself is bullying. Bullying yourself. 

Being the own perpetrator of your punishment (though completely underserved) saves everybody else from having to do so, and, at the same time, makes it so that this issue isn’t noticeable to anybody who’s not you. When you hate yourself, like I did, because of things you can’t make different, it becomes ingrained in who you are. 

And that’s what my insecurities were. 

They were me and I was them. 

And as much as I hated them, I hated myself just the same. 

NOTE: To end on a much happier note, considering how somewhat sad this article of the day is, I am happy to say my mental health is in a much better place now. After rewatching Bojack Horseman (I highly recommend it to anybody with functioning eyeballs), I learned that I am the one responsible for my own happiness, not my counselor, not my friends, not my mom, not my cat, me. And when you start to do better, you’re doing yourself a major favor, and, in doing so, you’re helping yourself. So, if anybody reading this has gone through a similar thing, just know that the only person who can love you first is you. Thanks for reading!! :)