Age 19

I was never really told I was beautiful or even attractive until I said I was ugly. To tell the truth, once a person says they’re ugly, it’s too late. That statement means that they’ve had enough time to think about it and have finally given in. Sometimes that’s how I feel. Sometimes I just kick my ass. I drag myself through the dirt worst than anyone can. I try to recover. The best I can do is give myself a nice little pat on the back. I’ve come along way from where I used to be with my body, but I get the feeling that the struggle will never truly be over. Even if I was to lose the additional weight, well now my skin is not perfect, my hair, my nose, my breast, my butt, my legs...something is always wrong. I’m always one step away from perfection.

I hope to have children one day. I promise that I will do my best to encourage high self worth and esteem. I feel that if you don’t get it when you are young, if your self worth was destroyed when you were growing up, you will spend the rest of your life in the Battle on the Body. It’s a never-ending war. Sometimes I have peace talks with my self-esteem. I say, “Hey, I’m not ugly and my looks don’t determine who I am.” And my self-esteem agrees and for awhile all is quiet on the home front.

Then it comes back.

It’s as easy as a quick glimpse in the mirror. Sometimes it’s as rough as a trip to the mall. In these moments the War is back on, being waged on all fronts. Sometimes others try to negotiate peace talks. They tell you stuff like, “you’re not fat,” “you aren’t ugly,” but it’s futile.

The only person who can even get anywhere near winning the War on Self is self.

I wonder if anyone has ever won.