A Second Glance
Finding my worth despite being put down by others based on my looks
Story by ALYSSA EVANS | Photo Illustration by AMY PAGE
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains references to eating disorders.
“Why are you wearing that? I can help you be more girly and likable if you want. You should stop dressing like that. You look like a nerd and I don’t want to be around that.”
As my friend’s words fell, a sudden weight encompassed my body. My attention shifted instantaneously away from a game of tetherball in the distance to myself. My jeans didn’t have the right pattern. My blunt, brown bangs weren’t the right style. I was 8 years old and quickly learning a lesson that would stick with me throughout my entire life: I need to look and act a certain way to be liked.
So when I was 11 years old and was told by two boys in class that my big, green bug eyes, huge ears, crooked teeth and height made me a freak, I believed them. If someone else thought I wasn’t good enough, was there even a reason I should think otherwise?
Before starting middle school, I decided I was going to fit in, without realizing it wasn’t so simple. I traded my polo shirts for tighter-fitting Aeropostale shirts because it was the cool thing to do. I hid my natural wavy hair with straighteners, highlights and more modern styles. My pale face was covered in makeup two shades too dark. I sucked in my stomach whenever I sat down and stood up in an effort to hide the baby fat and blossoming curves I didn’t want to be home to. It wasn’t enough.
I gave what I thought was love to boys who wouldn’t have noticed if they had magnifying glasses for eyes and each time I was let down I thought it was my fault. It wasn’t rare for me to think about how if I was prettier, the relationships I created with friends and boyfriends would have lasted. I had never been good enough and I still wasn’t.
When I was 16 years old, I spent a summer afternoon with another friend at her house. As she talked about the last boy who broke her heart, I didn’t understand. Her personality was brighter than her sun-bleached blonde curls and I thought anyone would be lucky to be around her. So when she brought me to the bathroom to show how heavy her plastic scale said she was, I knew I had work to do. If she could be 140 pounds of toned muscle and not be loved, then I definitely couldn’t weigh more. As summer continued, I traded in meals for what I hoped would be acceptance. The scale numbers continued to drop but my happiness fell with them.
I eventually started eating more and decided to drop the friends and boys who only hurt me. Yet I found myself in the same habits once college started. If I didn’t eat, I wouldn’t be fat. If I wasn’t fat, people would like me more. I started skipping meals without notice from others and felt like I might finally belong.
During Thanksgiving break of my freshman year of college, I listened to compliments about how I’d lost weight and how great I looked from family and friends. The compliments failed to fill the emptiness that had been in my stomach from days of skipping meals and exercising. I decided I needed to find self love before I destroyed what was left of myself.
1 in 5 people in the U.S. will experience bullying, according to the PACER National Bullying Prevention Center. I am the one in five. This isn’t only because of being told I wasn’t girly enough once, but rather being told I wasn’t good enough for years.
It took more than a year after my first college Thanksgiving break to make the strides necessary to build the self esteem I had lacked for most of my life. I finally stopped feeding into relationships where I needed to act and look a certain way for others to accept me. Slowly, I started to find my voice and place at Western through taking chances on myself and believing I was worth enough to deserve something good. I’m not where I want to be, but each day I get closer to my destination.
Words last. Make yours matter.
