When Your Childhood Insecurity is Actually Body Dysmorphia | The Odyssey Online
Start writing a post
Health and Wellness

When Your Childhood Insecurity is Actually Body Dysmorphia

When do vanity and insecurity go too far?

267
When Your Childhood Insecurity is Actually Body Dysmorphia
Bekah Russom // Unsplash

The sides of my face didn’t match. From the front, I appeared normal enough, and my left profile was passable, but the right belonged to someone else. Nostril flaring out too much, bridge of my nose rising forward like a jagged stone mountain, massive cheek swirled with pink blotches.

Why did this patchwork rag doll have to be my own reflection? Was it the result of a birth defect, an accident while I was in utero?

I couldn’t blame my parents for my seemingly deformed physical attributes. I was adopted as an infant and had never seen a single soul who looked like me.

In elementary school, I’d agonize over my hair, wondering why it didn’t flow full and thick like other girls.’ It just fell limp, like straw. Straw hair to go with the mismatched, ragdoll face.

Whenever I wasn’t obsessing over my hair, I’d zero in on another feature, some new hamartia of my outward appearance I hadn’t noticed before. I remember thinking, what will be next? After I get over my nose/skin/hair, what’s the next obsession to monopolize my thoughts, spin circles around me like a gnat?

I use to hide behind a curtain of my hair so people couldn’t see the blotchy rosacea on my right cheek. I remember being nominated “the 3rd ugliest girl in class.” I wanted to claw out of my own skin.

How do you know what you look like? How does anyone know what they look like? Every time I’d look in the mirror, I’d appear as someone different. Every time someone took my picture, my chest filled with dread. I was a grotesque creature. A shape-shifting deformity. I knew it stemmed from self-absorption, but I couldn’t stop. Every reflective surface held a mystery.

By middle school, my fixations turned to my body. I remember doodling myself in my 6th-grade chorus binder—giant head, hair like a fistful of yarn, noodle arms, towering too tall for my age. At the time, I perceived myself as far too thin. Other girls could be stick-skinny and still look good, but not me. It wasn’t even so much my weight, as it was my shape. Abnormal.

It hurt all the worse feeling like I was alone in this. Other girls worried about being too fat, other girls got anorexic. “Real women have curves,” they said, but what about the rest of us? I was the only one too awkward and too thin, in my mind. An outcast, a walking deformity.

By high school, I’d gained weight and my self-perception of thinness vanished. It was the second semester of freshman year, and I sat on the passenger side of my mom’s car as she drove me home from school.

I noticed my face in the side mirror. Eyes dark and too serious. Pouting unintentionally. My head leaned back lazily against the seat and I was struck by the size of my face, my double chin spilling out from under it.

How'd I not noticed this before? I already knew I wasn’t skinny anymore, but god, how’d I missed that thick roll framing my chin and jawline?

It was yet another moment of insecurity welling up to drown out everything else. Then a succession of moments like that. And then the need to do away with yourself, to check off the days with steady discipline, punishing your body for its own existence.

I’d joke years later that my double chin was half the reason I’d ever been anorexic. I used to subtly reach up and trace beneath my chin with my fingers. At first, it served as motivation, a reminder: you do not need to eat. You’ve gone too far already and you have to correct it.

Then it was a checkpoint, a mile-marker: one day it was gone, all I’d felt was jawbone and skin, the curve of my chin down to my neck. It became yet another miniscule obsession, one of many places on my body I needed to check and re-check, to run my hands along, to feel the bone.

After four years of yo-yo dieting, at age nineteen my body dysmorphia changed forms again, sneaky as a chameleon. Its words were different, but the deeper message the same.

It was January of 2013, and I’d forgotten what it felt like to be warm. My weight dipped ever lower. I’d stopped wearing bras because I couldn’t stand the way it puckered out the little bit of flesh when the band clasped around my torso. In the back of mind, I recognized the irony: I was too skinny to even have boobs anymore. I didn’t need a bra, yet still felt too fat to wear one.

I couldn’t wear certain fabrics because of their texture, how it’d feel against my ribs, or against any bit of flesh, I felt the need to shed immediately. I couldn’t stand it when anyone touched my back or my sides. Only I could, and I did so constantly. Discreetly running my hands up and down my ribs, making certain I could feel their entire cage rippling under my skin.

This was when the body dysmorphia surfaced the clearest to me. I became a pawn in my game of control. Every move I made revolved around this objective. Preventing myself from bingeing, straining to hold up the peace in my family, keeping them in the dark, even as my physical heart began to suffer from the effects of my starvation. And then the game owned me.

I landed in the hospital, where I gained back most of the weight. In the days leading up to my admittance; however, I had some revelations. I started to let myself smile again. I painted my lips with color. The light shifted in the mirror.

Words popped out of the void and filled my head, repeating again and again. Control. Balance. Healing. I didn’t know what they meant at first, but they became a mantra. These were the things I could gain when I realized my own worth. They were like planets in my orbit. But they’d always been lopsided, out-of-sync, or downright lost in the darkness.

I began to explore the events in my life that had impacted me so deeply, so irrevocably. I even considered my adoption and its effect on my self-perception and some of my past behavioral patterns.

It’s hard to describe how things changed, how I finally saw myself as a person and not a walking deformity. My insecurity still exists, but it’s no longer all-consuming, literally—it doesn’t eat away at my muscles and wear down my heart, anymore.

I continue to live with shifting mirrors, photographs that haunt me—shadows, shapes, and colors sprawling into my semblance. The right side of my face still looks like a stranger sometimes, like a mismatched puzzle piece. But these days, more often than not, I can see that it really is me. And that it’s okay.

Report this Content
This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
Thoughts While Studying For Finals
StableDiffusion


That time of the semester has arrived once again, finals. The worst week ever. Who thought it was a good idea for all your classes to have exams all in the same week? Definitely not me. Here's 20 thoughts you may have studying for finals.

Keep Reading...Show less
Entertainment

Disney magic for New Year!

The "Happiest Place on Earth" has a lot of characters with some pretty great advice.

5408
Disney magic kingdom castle on new years
StableDiffusion

Disney movies are well known and very popular in today's world. Although many people appreciate the plot and the storyline, not many people appreciate the wisdom these characters possess. Every Disney movie has unique advice that can be applied to everyday life. Here are 11 Disney quotes to help start your New Year off right:

Keep Reading...Show less
Lifestyle

40 Gift Ideas for the Indecisive

It's a time of love, family, memory-making, and gift-giving. But also a time of stressing over the perfect gift.

119603
Christmas gifts around a tree
StableDiffusion

It's officially December. There is less than a month of 2024, and I still feel like yesterday was summer. Now comes the merriest time of the year, the Christmas season.

Everyone has been waiting for this time of year since mid-October (which is way too early, in my opinion) or before. It's a time of love, family, memory-making, and gift-giving. A lot of times when I ask friends and family what they want, I get a lot of "I don't know" or "I don't care."

Keep Reading...Show less
Lifestyle

Bucket List To Live In The Now

Find excitement in your life and start exploring wherever you are right here, right now.

1384
mu bucket list

I was sitting at my cubicle, now that I am an adult, looking at the rain pouring down on the windowsill, bumming on life, wishing for the rain to just stop for a full day.

There are moments where we count down the hours until work is over and how many more days till the weekend, and this many weeks until something exciting. Or something like that? Well, I was bumming because my next day off from work is not until Memorial Day weekend, which is not until the end of May. And since this is my first year out of college being a “real person,” I am totally missing the winter, spring and summer breaks. I am sure all of us have felt this way even if just for a hot minute…

Keep Reading...Show less
Entertainment

11 Ways To Survive Finals As Told By Leslie Knope

Because you know you're going to be stressed out, and Leslie knows exactly how to survive.

1002
Everything hurts and I'm dying

So finals are on their way. That's right everybody, finals are about to start.

But hey, don't panic. Start getting your affairs in order and prepare for a week of hell. Here's a few things Leslie Knope wants you to do to make your finals week just a little bit less stressful:

Keep Reading...Show less

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Facebook Comments