Trying To Put Out My Dumpster Fire *********************************************************************************** Therapy Vol.9 When talking about my body, my parents/caregivers used to say... I dont recall anyone actually saying too much about my body. It was more like they weren't happy with me overall. Well. I mean. I know most of the time they hated how I dressed. I was comfortable in jeans, sneakers (usually Adidas) a t shirt, track jacket (Adidas) or a hoodie (usually Adidas). I have no idea why I was obsessed about this brand but I swear it was all I wore. That drove everyone nuts, especially my mother. She hated when I wore high top sneakers which of course meant they were my favorite. I at one point had these high top light grey with white stripes Adidas that I wore everywhere. It was totally acceptable for my sister to be the tomboy. She would wear high tops (usually Converse), skinny jeans and t shirts. They were usually baby tees from various department stores. My sister was cute and skinny and my mom knew how to shop for her. There were times my clothes were too big. I remember one time my mom getting me pants in a 16 wide. I do believe at this point in my life my other clothes were a size 11/12. When I tried to tell her how big they were (via phone, was living with gparents) she basically didnt believe me. I wore them once to school and I remember them constantly falling down. I had a close call where my underwear was damn near exposed because they were falling down, in a crowded hallway and i was carrying books trying to get to class. I was embarrassed. I also had t shirts that were too big. Like a mans XL tall or some shit. Me wearing them would piss her off too even though I wasnt the one who bought them. Because of the baggie clothes I swung too far to the left as a teenager and wore things that were too tight, too short and had too much cleavage. I looked just as crazy then. That didnt make my family happy either. So I stuck to the jeans, sneakers and hoodie/track jackets. At one point I would add polo shirts. When I got money I bought the shit myself. I remember telling my mom I was wearing a mans medium when she commented how much smaller I looked in the hoodie and being surprised at the size. Still I wanted to fit in so I would dabble in more "feminine" clothes. Occasionally I'd get a top with maybe a ruffle or a soft color or different silhouette to experiment but they'd hate it so I'd stop. One time me and my mom were shopping and I picked out a bunch of tops. When we got to the car she cussed me out and said I grabbed too many things. I was hurt and confused as to why she never gave me a limit or said anything in the store. Especially since I asked her and she wouldnt give me an answer. She bought a bunch of shit too and her card didnt decline so I was confused as to where this was coming from. Then when we got home she started complaining to my brother, Seventeen (he was her fave at the time). They both agreed I had picked out too many things and they felt I got everything in the wrong size. Then they made me try everything on which was the last thing i wanted since this whole trip went way left and i was feeling vulnerable and emotional. Everything i tried on they laughed at. Literally pointing out why it wouldnt work. It was excruciating. There was this long, flowy top that was basically a tunic length tank top. It was emerald green and the straps were thick and super ruffly which I thought was perfect because it would hide my bra straps. It was a t shirt material and didnt hug the body like a tank top which I loved. They tore me apart and said I couldn't wear shit like that and basically how my body didnt look right in it. Then they returned everything I picked out, except for the green top. My mom kept it and wore it all summer. I hated clothes shopping with my family. This is also why I never really got a lot of new shit like my other siblings. In regards to the green tank top tunic thing, this was not the first time my mom wore some shit I picked out. It irks me because I never get any credit for having semi decent taste in clothes and my confidence became all fucked up with my family so most of the shit I picked out I never wore. I remember one time I wanted to wear a tulle skirt and actually wanted to make my own. I showed my mom and she ordered one, showed me that she had it but acted like she thought of it herself and deadass never wore it. I think she ended up donating it. My brother Seventeen has done the same thing with button ups, cardigans, sweaters, etc. How do you even "own" an entire category of cardigans or sweaters? I have no clue. It's basically I'm locked in a box. If I try to experiment, they claim they've done it first and I'm basically jocking their style. Or the shit doesnt look good on me and it suits them better. Sometimes I feel like I'm getting their fashion left overs. For example when I started wearing button ups, Seventeen made it a point to tell me how he was tired of wearing them and doesnt like them as much and basically like of course I'd want to wear them now or since shit and that i was allowed too since he was done with them. It was a weird dig and I was confused because I wasnt wearing HIS shirts. I had my own and the fabric/color and the way i style my shit is different than how he styles his shit. Once again, how do you own a category of clothing? I'm always feeling like I'm competing with those two and I've never figured out why. Its fucking exhausting. Overall my family has made me feel like shit. I'm always getting examined. There is always a dig or slight. It's not just my clothes or my body but also my hair. And the thing is I've never really felt they cared. I never felt like it was a hey, let me help you. It was more like how dare you? Why would you? You cant wear that. They always made me feel ugly, fat and manly. Nobody cared. So. I hated myself and ate my feelings. "I wonder what it's like/ to wake up and love yourself/ to look in the mirror and not want to cry/ to weigh yourself, see the number, and not want to puke/ to be with friends and not feel ugly/ to go into public and not be insecure/ to go shopping for clothes and not feel fat/ I just wonder;/ what it's like to love your life"~Unknown "I cant explain how much I hate my body and how fat I feel"~Unknown "If you could read my mind, youd be in tears"~Unknown 9:53 am - Friday, Jul. 19, 2019 *********************************************************************************** |
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