Blogging Therapy, Journal Entries

Ridiculous & Ridicule

I am not perfect. There. I’ve said it (cue fake-heart attacks from the peanut gallery… I’m looking at you my sisters three!). But I strive oh so hard to be. I always try to dress the right way, have my hair placed just so, keep an organized, spotless home, say the right things at the right time… I try so hard, invest so much time and energy (and money) into this ongoing goal for perfection… but why?

Because my deepest, darkest fear is of being ridiculed. As a child my family had very little money, and the woman who birthed me never understood the need for basic hygiene (or matching colors), so I went to school dirty, my already unruly, very curly hair a mess, in used, mis-matched clothes. Lets face it; children are incredibly mean, and I was an easy target. I was severely bullied through elementary school; told I was unworthy, stupid, ugly; every single day.

*MUST NOT TURN POST INTO SOB STORY*

*MUST NOT TURN POST INTO SOB STORY*

*MUST NOT TURN POST INTO SOB STORY*

My point is, when you’re bullied that badly, that consistently, you get to a point where you believe what the bullies are telling you. Then you grow up, go to therapy, change, evolve, and ‘become a stronger person thanks to your experiences’. But… the scars are still there. You’ll very rarely admit it to yourself (if ever), but deep down, you still believe you’re stupid, unworthy, and ugly.

And so, (getting back on track here) I have a deep-seated fear of being ridiculed. Which I desperately need to let go of, because this quest for perfection sure as hell isn’t making me happy. I’m at my happiest being who I am. In tore up jeans and a random t-shirt rolling around in the grass, wrestling with my nephews.

I don’t need the ‘it’ hairdo. I don’t need to have a gorgeous profile picture, and I don’t need five pounds of make-up to make me beautiful. I need to learn to let go. I need to stop deleting those ‘awful’ pictures of myself. Those pictures are me being me, being happy. I need to stop trying to impress everyone at the expense of my happiness.

 I am beautiful. Not because I have great legs or a 23 inch waist (which I do… FYI 😉 ). I am beautiful because I am me. I am silly, strange, have a bizarre sense of humor… I AM RIDICULOUS!

And I need to learn to laugh at myself.

Step One:

Image

Love & Light

Jessy

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