I have constantly been hearing the struggles different people have with accepting what they look like. I’ve rarely stopped and listened some of their stories. But, when I did so, I’ve sympathized with their pain and chose to support them by leaving positive comments, when possible, in their posts or videos.
Surprisingly, I never contemplated the fact, that I might’ve been suffering from body dysmorphia. Despite the different stories out there telling how difficult the battle has been and how exactly a mind distorts the whole reality of a body really looks like, the realization came to me one day when I was looking myself at the mirror, as everyone does.
What I kept noticing was every single flaw that I have (based on what I’d prefer my physical appearance to look like). I examined each of them carefully, condemning and denigrating my DNA and heritage: from my the shape of my body to the minuscule difference between my two eyebrows.
I got to the point to assure the imminent end of my relationship with my boyfriend, just because I would fail to do anything about it. I thought of the possibility that he would be looking at other men’s profile in order to find a guy who makes him feel more attracted to. I pondered on the lack of importance my personality has because, at the end of the day, looks are what really matters in a relationship to keep the flame burning.
I also blamed my body as a main cause of my inability to maintain any of my past relationships.
I used to prefer not to place myself in scenarios or public places where I would be exposed to people who might take a look at me and reject me for my looks.
That day, it hit me. I suffer from body dysmorphic disorder. It was painful to realize that by my own, but it was liberating to know that my mind was behind every degrading perspective I would have about my body. Now, I’ve started to dismiss the so-called flaws. It’s obvious that it is just a step, I haven’t woken up each morning unafraid of looking at my reflection without pointing out what I don’t like about my body. Though, after a while of noticing them all, I get to spot the one that really matters.
I still spot every alleged imperfection–as I would consider them–but I dismissed every thought as soon as it pops up.
I would dare to compare it to as my second coming out. I felt a pressure has been lifted and I am step closer to acknowledge me as the valuable person that I have always been.