This was beautiful and full of truth. I had to share it!
I’ve spent years just as addicted to this idealized notion of attraction, and of being attractive. Of being different, of High School bullies, of years of loneliness, self-inflicted AND sometimes involuntary, and all that and so forth, though I don’t have a hate for anyone, cause I’m a frigging adult and I no longer need anyone’s approval.
For a long time, I seemed to be always looking over my shoulder, wondering at what people thought of me, what they said about me, if they noticed me at all, shy that I’ve always been. Maybe a bit of the scars left over from High School, but whatever. I was very quiet, almost demure, insignificant, trying to fade into the background. To be the observer, not the observed.
At times oblivious to any part of me that could be considered anything but fat and ugly, and all those other left-over bits from…
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