Life has been a bit of a rollercoaster over the last couple of weeks, ups and downs coming from all directions, some expected and some not.
Sure it has been really hard but it has also been enlightening, it has forced me to confront some things about myself that I thought I had "done and dusted".
I have written here about learning to like myself for the first time and it is true that I have made amazing progress on this front. I used to have such a negative view of myself that it was veering towards the minum infinity end of the scale, now it is just creeping back into positive figures. One of the major pluses is the acceptance and even celebration of my particular kinks. I have come to understand that I "need" these in my life, even if it meant sacrificing someone I cared for very much. This is a major, major part of accepting the real me.
But, and I have realised that this is a BIG but, I still have major insecurities when it comes to my physical appearance, these insecurities caused me to make some really bad decisions over the last week. Decisions which showed me that I was verging on the paranoid. Decisions which showed me that I still have a long way to go in this area.
OK after a number of years of therapy I know where this comes from. Throughout the majority of my school life I was extremely badly bullied. The girls who were the main ring leaders were part of the "in-crowd", they were pretty and thin. I was not, but I was smarter than they were. So they could not "get" me for being stupid as I could outclass them in every academic subject you could care to think of.
So instead they "got" me for being fat, for being ugly, for wearing glasses, you name it every part of my body was "assassinated" in some way. When I "refused" to rise to the bait and pretended that I did not care they would physically bully me, pulling my clothes about or covering them in chalk dust and making me look as untidy as possible. They would keep me out of the classroom at break or lunch time so that I always had to rush to collect my stuff after the bell had rung and was thus always being accused by the teachers of being scruffy, disorganised and constantly late for lessons.
When I was 18 the brother of my best-friends' boyfriend got drunk and tried to persuade me to let him grope me and sleep with him. I told him that if he was really interested in me he could ask me that question again, when he was sober and he professing "undying" love for me agreed to meet me two nights later, in the pub which my friends and I used to frequent. Of course he did not turn up that night nor the next three nights, so I was right, I knew I was not attractive to "men".
When I was 21 I got my first serious boyfriend, we met in the amateur operatics society where I had a lot of fun flirting with this "tall, dark, handsome pirate" whilst I was in character as "one of the damsels-in-distress". This on-stage flirting turned into a real relationship off stage and I was really flattered when he dumped his girlfriend so he could go out with me. We were together for 3 1/2 years and he did introduce me to sex, but only sex with the light off. The trouble was that he had a "thing" for rescuing damsels and during this time he had affairs with two other women, one of whom was old enough to be my mother .
He begged me to forgive him each time and promised that he would not do it again, but then told me that although he had not initially had a problem with my "size" that he did actually have a "minor" issue with it. Of course this completely knocked my confidence and I forgave him and took him back. Finally, I realised that this was not a healthy relationship for me and that as he did not want children and I did that I had to get out.
Not long after this, with my self-image at an all time low, I met the man who would become my husband. He had so many "issues" himself it was not true, but believing that I did not deserve to have someone decent and being sure that no other man would want me I agreed to marry him. Things, as I have written in earlier posts, went downhill from there and my self-image continued to spiral down with them.
After a long, long struggle, involving his alcoholism, his court cases, my breakdown and thoughts of suicide, and much, much more. I finally managed to extricate myself from the mess which he had dragged me into, divorce him and rise "phoenix-like" from the ashes.
Like the phoenix I too have changed at least from the outside point of view, I have lost weight, got my teeth straightened, started running etc but these have not altered the way that I see myself, inside I still see that fat/ugly girl that was bullied all those years ago and who believed what they said.
No matter how many times people, even those I trust, tell me that I am fine, that I have fanstastic eyes, a great bust, a spankable backside etc, I cannot believe them. I can believe that they like my intelligence, my sense of humour, my bank balance etc but I cannot believe that they really like how I look. Anyone who does must be certifiable (call the men in white coats) or their motives are suspect (they want my brain for medical science, or just want sex) or they are just far to nice to tell me the truth (okay you guys know who you are). Whatever, they cannot possibly want to date me, can they?
The answer is, yes a few actually might want that and I need to learn to believe them and not to push them away with my paranoia. If only it were that simple.
OK, it is not simple, but I am sure as hell going to work at it.
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