A solid 3 on a good day
I’m so fucking lonely. I miss having someone to talk to whenever I want. I miss holding someone’s hands. I miss feeling like I belong to someone. I miss feeling protected. I miss feeling beautiful. Now I just feel so lonely and cold and unwanted and ugly. I’m not the prettiest person. My hair sucks. My eyes are too small. My nose too wide. My legs too short. Waist too fat. But most painfully true, my teeth suck. I hate myself so much I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate myself. My stupid gap makes me looking like a fucking hillbilly that just got hit by a baseball bat and happened to know a tooth out. No one is interested in damaged goods, be it physically or emotionally.
I’ve met a few guys online, but every time I do it feels like I’m catfishing them. The pictures I show don’t show my teeth and then they meet me and I’m completely different. I’m ugly. That’s when the conversations start to fizzle and die down until all I get is a sign that I got blocked. Life fucking sucks.
I met someone who I thought was different. He helped me through a couple of things I was going through. At first it was completely platonic, and it still is. But we met and everything suddenly changed. Conversations weren’t as good. I’d start one and he would let it die down. I feel worthless. I could blame others for being shallow all I want, but I wouldn’t like me either if I met me. I guess in a way I didn’t want him to expect anything cus I wasn’t. But now that I know that he did I feel terrible. For him and for me.
I sometimes dream of the day I find the one that I’m gonna spend my life with, even though it’s a long shot. I dream of having kids one day with the person I love. But each and every day it just seems more and more unreachable. Reasons like this is why I feel so down all of the time. I’m tired of feeling disgusted by my own body.
I’m not happy. I never am and I never will be.
Mother/mom
My mom didn’t raise me. She left when I was 2 to go to Canada. I stayed with my dad and his family for about half of my life and I didn’t get to meet my mom until I was 9. I always pictured her as this fun loving person who liked to joke around. I can only remember one phone call I had with her throughout that whole time she was gone. I was staying with my grandma (her mom) at the time with my brother. I remembered her voice was soft and sweet. I only had certain pictures of her at the time and that’s how I always imagined her. Short and skinny with bob length hair. I was so happy to have her even though I barely knew her.
The first time I saw her, I didn’t know who she was. She looked nothing like how I imagined her to be. Her hair was longer. It wasn’t black anymore, it was brown with blonde highlights. And she gained a little weight. She was a stranger to me. For the first few months, my brother and I stayed close to our dad. She was our mother, but she wasn’t our mom. As time went on, we warmed up to her. Eventually she wasn’t a stranger anymore.
I never knew that not being raised by her would impact our relationship so much. For the majority of my childhood, I was raised by my grandmother (dads side). His whole family was loving and caring. I could say that I was kind of spoiled as I was the favorite grand child. That probably explains a lot about my personality. Regardless of the side dish of family drama, they loved me and my brother, and they never let us forget that.
Now, if you knew my mom, she would seem really awesome to you. And she might be for you. For me it’s a little different. I don’t think my mom and i have ever had a great mother and daughter relationship. I learned later on that it was probably because my grandma always told me she was bad, but I always brushed that aside because she was my mom. Anyway, we never had a relationship where we confided in each other. I couldn’t bring myself to trust her and vice versa. As I got older, I started to wonder all of these things about my mom during my childhood. Why did she never call me? Why did she never come back to visit? Why was she prancing around with this other guy from the states when she had kids back in the Philippines? It never made sense to me. She left us to “help us” but didn’t even make the effort to see us. I realized I didn’t really know who this woman was. She never really raised me. My female role model was my grandma. When my dad remarried, his new wife became our mother and she was everything we could ever ask for and need. A lot of our views and opinions clashed and we were constantly fighting. She was too overbearing and too strict. In return, I lied. I lied and I lied and I lied and I lied about anything and everything a young girl could lie about. Eventually I broke her trust in me, but she always seemed to “forgive” me. But now I have a reputation for lying.
I don’t remember a time when my mom complimented me about something good I did. I always remember the constant criticism and how I COULD be better. I’ve always been insulted left and right about what I do or think, which I admit is partly my fault for lying all the time. But throughout all this time, she failed to see that all I need is for her to show me she cared enough about me. I get that she provides me with a house to live in and food to eat, but is it so much to ask for love from my own mother. I don’t remember anytime when my mom stopped and hugged me and said she loved me. I’m 20 years old but I need to know I’m loved by my own mother.
The summer before uni started, I was getting a lot of heat for staying at home too much. We were constantly fighting until eventually we stopped talking for a good two months. If I was a mother, I don’t think I would’ve reacted this way. Who ignores their child for two months? The breaking point of all of this was when she finally asked me what was wrong and I told her how I had been feeling. How I wasn’t okay emotionally and I needed help. Her response was to ridicule me and proceed to get mad at me for having feelings. Makes sense. My second cry for attention at the hospital, the same thing happened. The whole time I spent in the hospital, talking to the doctors, evaluating my situation, I never got a hug or an I love you or I’m here for you. It was all “you did this to yourself” and “are you happy now? Is this the freedom you want?” Very touching words, I could cry. During one of the interviews, I had to do it alone. The nurse asked me how my life was at home, if I was being abused or if they were just too strict. It got me thinking.. Was this abuse? Neglect? Like I said before, I sugar coated everything and said that I was just stressed with school. Every one was smiling and giggling like nothing happened.
Parents always say that favoritism doesn’t exist. Of course it does. My stepdad does not care the same way for me and my brother than how he cares for his OWN two kids with my mom. It’s not the same. And I can damn straight tell you that I am by far the least favorite child. But is what I’m asking from my parents too much? Is it that hard to sit with your daughter and have a normal conversation without insulting her every decision every five seconds? Is it possible to show that you care even the slightest? Even if it was deep deep down your cold cold heart? Because if it is, then just please do it because I’m pretty sure it would solve all of my problems.
