Where my insecurities lead.

I’ve decided to be transparent in regards to my insecurities. When I was younger I thought that I was the only person that had them but as I got older, I realized that a lot of people have insecurities. Now, at 25, I’ve realized that people can actually benefit from me telling my story of where my insecurities lead. So, here goes…

Since I can remember I’ve always had body image issues. Even as a little girl in 1st grade I would look at myself and question if I was pretty. Wonder if I was too fat. Why I was so tall? Sometimes I even questioned why I wasn’t as beautiful as my teacher. But, I had adults swearing I was pretty. Not just my parents and a few teachers but random people. With no coaching or baiting, they just genuinely thought that I was pretty. I let that get to my head. There was one woman that always pinched my cheeks. I hated it but down the line, it encouraged me it made me believe that I was pretty. First through third grade was fine. I was a little bit of a mute but I had friends and my insecurities were at the very back of my mind. Then, fourth grade came.

At the start of fourth grade, I was already a little wary. I was starting at a new school in a completely different school district. I wouldn’t know anyone but my sister and she was already in middle school. So, the year commenced and with it came the start of my bullying experience. These kids preyed on the same insecurities I had when I was younger. So, every negative thought I had about myself migrated from the forgotten place in my mind right up to the forefront. I guess that’s how insecurities work though, you can’t just cover them up with compliments you have to deal with them head-on or else they’ll just dig themselves back out.

It started with little snide remarks about my weight. I didn’t care too much about it, I was busy making friends. The most friends I’d ever had so I was distracted. But, we were in fourth grade and a little of the girls I hung out with were hot tailed. So, boys began to worm there way in and they always bought a comment with them. It got to a point where I would brace myself when I’d see them. I knew it was coming, I knew what it would be about but somehow it hurt a little more each time. Our little finicky group graduated from standing in front of our classroom during lunch to having a portion of a lunch table. One kid did not like that. He talked shit whenever I came to it down then one day he decided that words weren’t enough. As I went to sit down he threw his leg from underneath the bench and kicked me as hard as he could in the bottom of my stomach. He yelled some insults but I barely heard them. My stomach hurt so bad it made my ears ring. I never told my parents or teachers just sucked it up. At the time I didn’t realize it but I’d made myself believe that I deserved it.

That same year teachers and staff started. My insecurities were the only things I could think about. All day, every day. And I began to hate myself. I was always in the mirror pointing out a new flaw. For some reason having a teacher point out that you were fat, or tall and saying it as if it were the most disgusting thing they’d seen was so much different than having a kid say it. And I was just a little kid myself. She ganged up on me with other teachers too. Even on days where I’d put on a cute outfit or get my hair done, she’d make me feel bad about it. So, in turn, even things I didn’t see as a flaw before suddenly became a flaw. And the awareness of that flaw turned into yet another insecurity.

Middle school was a bit different. Not as much but a little. High school bought a whole new form of bullying, a more intensified form. I went through things that I can’t even sit here at this computer and type up but needless to say all of these things affected my dating life. From reading you know by now that I was insecure. I questioned everything and read every sign in a negative way. It took me being in an emotionally abusive relationship to finally confront my insecurities. To finally say fuck it, they’ll like me for me or they just won’t have me at all.

I’d tried to bend and shape myself into someone I wasn’t to please people, men specifically. I wanted to find “the love of my life” so I did whatever I thought would make them stay. I lost my virginity at twenty years old to a man I didn’t know because he was cute and was unlike the other people I’d talked to. I did what I thought would keep him and it most definitely did not work. He walked me outside his house, told me to text him when I made it home and when I did I got no response. But, I still kept running on that same theory, get a feel of what they like and be that. It never worked. Then just a couple weeks after my twenty-third birthday, I jumped into a relationship. Barely knew him but somehow he was my boyfriend. I was so insecure I ignored all the red flags that popped up because I’d convinced myself that he’d be the only man to ever be foolish enough to call me his girlfriend.

He started the first day I met him. But, the next time we hung out is when I should’ve said, no this isn’t a situation I want to be in. We took a walk around a couple of blocks, talking and “getting to know each other” and he asked me what my career choice was and I responded immediately telling him that I wanted to be an author. This is something I’d wanted to do since I was eleven or twelve years old and he turns to and says “you need a plan b.” Right of the bat just shot my dreams down. If this had been before I’d successfully written two books and knew it was something I loved and was fully capable of doing, I’d have chosen to let it go just to please him. I would’ve questioned it until the thought causes my anxiety to flare up. A few days into the relationship he showed just how toxic the relationship would be and still I stayed. He pointed out that I was insecure. Said it in this harsh tone that kind of made me shrink into myself. I knew that I was insecure but having someone else notice it made me feel things I can’t explain.

The relationship went on and every day he did something to make me feel shitty about myself. On one occasion he called me at 2 am just t tell me that I’d never be shit. He told me that I’d sit around my whole life and let someone else take care of me. He’d never asked me why I wasn’t working or if I wanted to work, nothing, until that night and when I told him about interviews I’d been on and applications I’d turned in he called me a liar. Claimed that I was guaranteed to get hired because everybody does even though he’d applied for the same high demanding job and never got it. He went on to tell me that I was dumb and stupid and various other insulting things. He’d told me early on that he didn’t like to be hung up on and that he’d leave me if I ever disrespected him that way. So, I sat in that bed with the phone pressed to my ear listening to everything he had to say until he decided that it was time for us to end the call.

Another time I let my insecurities overshadow my better judgment was when he insulted my dad. My dad was a funny guy. Always cracked a joke or hollered some old-time riddle to make people laugh. He was one of the greatest men I’ve ever known but he passed away in September of 2017. My “boyfriend” knew this, I’d told him that fact in various conversations and still, he chose to disrespect him. He’d said something stupid, used a phrase the way he shouldn’t have said it and my mother heard him so she tells me, “you know what your daddy would’ve said about that”. She wasn’t saying, my dad would've beat his ass or thrown him out of the house but that he would have cracked a goddamn joke. This man bucked up on me, fist balled, a vein visible in his forehead, he looked around the apartment then said: “what the fuck he gon do?” Drug me outside and continued to question me as if I hadn’t told him that my dad passed. Asking me stupid questions and acting as if he wanted to fight him. I told him, my mom didn’t mean what he thought and that he was an idiot because I told him my dad was gone. Still, he says, “Oh, cause I was about to say?”

Then, he put his hands on me. My brother had come over to visit us for a few days and my “boyfriend” had no idea. He always showed up unannounced and expected me to drop anything I was doing to cling to him and I did. Every single time. So, my brother is in the next apartment over when he comes in. He’s all lovey-dovey at first telling me that I look pretty and some other bullshit that I had no problem eating up. Then my brother yells from outside “Mikela, braid my fuckin hair!”, real playful like and before I know it there’s a hand at my throat. Not too tight but enough for me to know that he was not playing with me. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t bring myself to give him any more of me. He asked me who it was that was calling my name and when I told him it was my brother he quickly let me go and leaned back to see if anyone had seen him. I should’ve told my brother then. He would have beaten his ass and sent him on his way. The thought crossed my mind but it was quickly followed by, who’s gonna love me if I drive him away? If I have my brother get rid of him, what am I going to do then? This was my first boyfriend and I was twenty fucking three, would it be another twenty-three years before I found someone again? So, I stayed silent. Even now this is my first time acknowledging this incident.

I stayed with him for months after that. He never put his hands on me again but the mental abuse never let up. It was a constant thing that I accepted. I learned that even though I was insecure he was too and would push that off on me. He made me feel shitty because he wasn’t secure in himself. Whereas my insecurities made me clingy and desperate. He eventually cheated and was forced to confess because he’d given me an std. And even then, he lied and lied and lied, when that didn’t work he began to blame me. I wanted to leave, I was done and finally, I had the courage to do so but only because he’d left for work. It took him putting hundreds of miles between us for me to finally stand up to him. I ended the relationship during yet another phone call filled with blame and harsh words. He blew my phone up for weeks but I just ignored his calls, blocked him on social media and went on with my life.

He came back to my house when he returned but this time I didn’t let his words get to me and go crawling back even though I had the urge to. I wanted to believe him so badly but that was the exact moment I said fuck you to my insecurities. I realized I couldn’t let them dictate how I lived my life because look at where they’d lead me. I was willing to accept anything because I thought that it was all I’d get. Feeling like the worst was the best I’d ever receive almost felt like dying. So, I stiffened up my upper lip and walked away.

I don’t do morning affirmations or look up inspirational quotes to keep going I just remind myself that I’m enough. I confronted all of the things I thought were flaws and accepted them. I’m fat, ok, a lot of people are. People I, myself, deem beautiful but couldn’t see the same in myself. I can see it now. I’m no longer taller than everybody but if I was, so what! There are tall women everywhere what the fuck would I be sad about. My teeth are like this, I have acne, my fucking elbows are dark, oh well, that’s me! It’s all of me and I’ll be damned if I let myself believe that I’m nothing again. I’ve learned to love myself and it took all of two years to fight back against the insecurities that had built up for over a decade. I did it and you can too.

Let go of whatever is holding you back. Grab it and throw it over a cliff because it’s bullshit!

LET. IT. GO

Because no one deserves to be in a terrible situation because they think it is what they deserve. You deserve more and you have to grab hold of that hope. You are destined for more.

-Mikela