a poem I wrote

When i was eight it was the first time i felt unbeautiful,

and of course it wont be the last,

it was then that i realized,

that the world was pressuring me to look like a specific image,

it was then that i realized,

the mirror was a monster staring back at me,

forcing me to believe that i was not beautiful,

that i would never perfect,

it was then that i realized,

that in order to be perfect i had to weigh a certain number,

and god forbid someone would see me eating,

it was then i realized,

that i was not worth the space.

i was something that no one cared for,

something that resembled a punching bag. 

i was always compared to others around me,

never complimented

but tortured by the way i looked.

How my thighs didn't have a gap,

and how they rubbed together as i walked

how my skin wasnt flawless,

how my hair wasnt blonde and wavy

how i didn't walk with my back straight,

or how i sat with my legs open

because it was impossible to sit "lady like"

it was then i realized that 

that i was FAT

That i was UNBEAUTIFUL

that i was WORTHLESS

it was then that at nights i would sit up,

and wonder how i could change the way i looked

i started cutting my hair off,

and wearing makeup,

i started to change my tom boy clothes to girlier ones

i tried to fit into the world's standards of beautiful,

and when people said i was beautiful 

i would just stare at them

i wanted to ask why

why they thought i was beautiful

what,

in their eyes made me beautiful

because clearly no one else could see it

i was not thin,

i was not tall,

i didnt have my nails painted,

i didnt wear "SEXY" clothes,

i didn't fit

it was then that i realized that the world was like a puzzle,

and i was just a extra piece,

i would never fit in anywhere,

i was a piece from a different puzzle,

the one no one liked,

i got tossed around untill i got lost,

when i was nine,

it was then i realized the the only way to stop feeling the way i felt

was  by hurting myself,

at first i would get into fights,

i would come home with bruises and scrapes. 

and for a little bit that was enough

until it wasn't

it was when i was nine that i started shaving,

because i had hair on my legs

and that was unacceptable for a nine year old to have

it was in the shower where i first cut myself

accidently,

 but i watched at the blood ran down

and for the first time i smiled

i felt free

when i was 10 i was going down a dark path,

unable to stop 

for the fear of feeling the way i did before,

i was still not perfect

not by a long shot

i was what was wrong with the world

everything that the world hated

i was

and i was just something that could be abused

and never loved.

when i was eleven,

i heard the words your fat everyday 

it constantly rang through my mind

never escaping

when i was feeling good they were there to remind me

i was nothing. 

when i was twelve i tried of hearing people's voices,

i started to starve myself

unable to lose the weight 

my depression got deeper

i was slipping into a dark hole.

it was then i realized i shouldn't be alive anymore

so i tried to take my life

it was then i realized i was nothing

and would never amount to anything

when i was 16 my depression was so bad 

i was losing friends right, left and center

i was starving myself and cutting

just wanting to feel something

 other then the numbness caused by there words. 

it was then i realized i would never be thin 

i would never fit into the world's standards

it was then i realized i would always be stared at when in stores

because a 16 year old had to go to the plus size section

because the  world's views on obese people were skewed.

it was when i was 17 the i realized that it needed to stop

i needed to stop taking the world seriously

there was nothing wrong with me

but everything wrong with the world

at 17 i knew that yes i was not perfect

yes i was FAT

yes i was  not model beautiful

but that didn't matter

it was then that i realized that i deserved better

i deserved to be loved

i stopped starving myself 

and stoped cutting

at 18 im still struggling with my appearance

there are days that i feel unbeautiful and a waste of space

their words still echo in my mind,

but so do his

if i was unbeautiful why do i have a boy by my side

if i was un beautiful why does he say that i am

if i was a extra piece in the cruel world why would he be so perfect for me?

i am 18 years old

this all started by someone calling me a fat cow

and it all ended by a guy kissing my scars and telling me i was beautiful

i was eight when i first felt unbeautiful

instead of learning about periods and sex and condoms

we should have been focusing on how to love ourselves

and on another

i deserved better then i was treated

now when i look in the mirror i don't see what the world wants me too see 

i see my friends and family

i see a sea of support

i see a great guy by my side calling me beautiful

i see myself

as a whole

not just as my appearance

what makes me, me is not my weight

or my skin

or my hair

its not my small ears

or my fat feet and fingers

its not how i sit or how i walk

it my soul

that makes me, me

and no one can tell me im not beautiful

because your soul is what makes you beautiful.