#YouLookDisgusting was something I heard a lot as a teen. I’m sure you’ve seen this already but it’s something I wanted to share. I watched this today, and it made me think about my teens.
I don’t have any photos of myself as a teen. I didn’t pose for them often, and the few I had were lost in the Great Hard Drive Death of 2014. It’s okay though, I don’t need photographs, I can still remember the mockery, and how awful my teen years were. I was plagued by depression, but I was also plagued by chronic acne. I had acne from my jawline to my hairline, my cheeks were covered in marks, and red patches, and white heads. I did not know what smooth skin was. Obviously it improved with age, and somehow I got through those days with very little of it affecting me, but looking back I remember it all, and I think a lot of my skin issues had a lot to do with my depression and suicidal thoughts. I didn’t interact with boys very much, except for those who were my friends, I had little to no proper social skills (outside of my little group of friends who had known me since I was 9), and I was depressed as all hell. I was a cutter, and I can tell you now that I did it for attention. I didn’t bandage my arms, I didn’t keep my sleeves down, and it was only after I’d left high school that I moved the cutting from my wrists to my inner thighs. I can’t tell you why I moved my cutting spot, it might have been because by the time I left school I had nobody to pity me, nobody to try attract attention from, and that changed the cutting from a game to a genuine coping mechanism. It was only around that time that I realised how bad my skin was. Selfies were a big thing in 2006, way before Instagram, we actually had this thing called MySpace, and as an emo/scene kid I would post them in their droves. Of course they were edited to all hell, so you couldn’t see my skin. I think it was then that I developed the habit of picking my skin, and it just spiralled from there.
Luckily by about 19 I had learnt to wear makeup. Not well, but well enough to hide the majority of damage I had done to my skin. I’ve since learnt to do a pretty decent job of hiding my scars, and my acne behind a layer of makeup.
I relate to Em. I really do. I often hear #YouLookDisgusting. More often than not, I’m the one who says it. I think what I’m trying to say is that nobody is disgusting. I’m so blessed to have a fiancé who tells me I’m beautiful even when I’ve had a massive panic attack and my skin is red, and torn to shreds and bloody. I’m lucky and not everyone is. Never believe for a second that whoever you are, male, female, black, white, and everything in between that you are not beautiful. I don’t believe in God, but I do believe that every single one of us has a purpose in this life, and that purpose definitely doesn’t include feeling ugly. You are beautiful. If you’re someone who has ever told someone #YouLookDisgusting, please think about what you’ve said. You may not know the harm you’ve caused, you may not know how much you’ve hurt someone. Remember, your words carry a weigh, they make an impact, and no matter how little a passing comment impacts you, it can change someone forever.
Love & sloppy doxie kisses