It is easier to build than repair.

I saw this photo on Facebook today and stopped. I normally go through lots of pictures on Facebook and never stop to think. But this one is different. It speaks to me because I am realizing just how hard it is to repair yourself as an adult. I have a mixed childhood. It was both great and horrible. I lived in a horrible place (south side Chicago) and was exposed to violence on a daily level, so much so that I am desensitized to it. Violence, although I hate it, does not bother me. I was always picked on as a kid. I was the girl who was too tall, too fat, too ugly. I didn't have friends and the ones I thought I had, well, they turned out to be a bunch of sluts looking to hook up with my brother (this is form 5th-8th grade mind you). Growing up, I also had conflicting messages given to me. "Education is going to lead you to great places" and "Education? Why? You're gonna be stuck here anyway!" I had decided to go for the first and applied myself completely to school. This didn't help my social life. I never really learned how to make and keep friends. People just befriended me when they needed things or when they realized that there was someone much lamer than they.

I had always been told growing up that it didn't matter what I felt, I needed to stay quiet and keep it to myself. This worked well until I started breaking. I have a history of abuse (verbal, mental, and emotional) that have lead me to actually have a bit of conflicting feelings around men. They scare me so much, but it is only around some that I feel safe. I have been raped and beaten by men before. I have been told I am a whore, a good for nothing bitch. Growing up, the boys always hated me and picked on me because they were stronger, there were more of them. They learned the best way to get to me, it wasn't physical violence. It was the constant assault of words and slurs. This all started at a young age, and nothing at home changed this. Thoughts that I was never good enough, nothing I ever did was right. I was always doing something the wrong way. I doubted everything I did. I passed 8th grade easily, but it wasn't good enough. I didn't get good enough grades. It didn't matter I scored in the 99th percentile on all tests, school, city, and state wide. It didn't matter I had won 2nd and 3rd place awards for science. It didn't matter I made it to City Competition for my writings. It wasn't good enough.

In high school, I thought it would be different - I was wrong. Something tragic happened, I was raped for the first time. I hid my body. I didn't want anyone to see me. I knew I wasn't pretty like all the other girls. I wasn't good enough, wasn't smart enough. I found some friends, but I never let them that close to me. There were a two guys who showed interest in high school, both actually turned out to be total douchebags, but at the time - only one was worth it. I had went for douchebag #1. He was cute, he was popular. I should have known it was a trap right then. He showed interest in me, lead me along for a few weeks. We never dated, but he always alluded to it happening. Then one day, nothing. Next thing I know, word is spreading that I'm stalking him. That i'm waiting for him after class, begging to sit near him. I couldn't shake those rumors that whole semester. I hated myself more, wondering what I did to deserve this. The old words started ringing in my head again. I fell into depression and so began my introduction to cutting. The clothes became bigger too. I didn't want anyone knowing I had a body. Then he came along, (#2). He was my best friend during this time and tried to get rid of those nasty thoughts in my head. Looking back, I see that he was just planting more insecurities.

Again, nothing was good enough for my family and friends during this time. I was constantly criticized for my choice in anything. It didn't matter that I raised the money myself to pay for all my soccer gear and school events for 3 years. It didn't matter that I had earned a chance to go to a conference in Washington DC and actually talk about my science experiments. I wasn't good enough. I was too "manly" for my family, they wanted me in skirt and dresses. I pushed back, I didn't want them to see any scars. I found out I was being cheated on, had been cheated on a few times. I cried and went into depression. I didn't want to talk, I started smoking. I started cutting again. Very close friends had been killed and that pushed me further. I couldn't take it anymore. I sat in the washroom during parts of lunch and cried when no one was around. I pushed myself harder in soccer, dropping lots of weight. It wasn't enough. I was still too fat and I saw it in the mirror. Instead of a beautiful, feminine body. I had these big muscles and fat everywhere.

Even now, I set myself up for failure. Master has tried and tried to  break me of these voices, and just when I think it has worked, they come back and I do something to mess up. It has been almost a year since he took me in, and I know I have made a lot of progress from where I was 10 years ago. I have gone through so much, been married and abandoned. Been thrown to the side with no word as to why someone didn't want to be with me anymore. The voices just got stronger. Then Master came and the voices started to quiet down, but I always end up doing something to make them come back. The words from when I was a child come back to me very clearly, "You're never going to be good enough. You will never make anyone happy with how you are.."

It really is much easier to build up a child than repair an adult...