The Journey to Loving Yourself
BY: SASKIA HIEB
“i am proud of myself for still existing when there’s been days i wish i didn’t,
i forgive myself for my regrets,
and i pledge to try to love myself and be my own best friend.”
I had a hard time beginning this article. Additionally to the old-fashioned writer’s block, my mind was filled with questions such as “Will people even read what I write here? Does anyone even care about my two cents about the idea of beauty? A topic that is discussed entirely on subjective opinions on the daily?”
But then I realized that writing this article is part of my own journey and the eventual liberation that I’m still working on to this day. Not everyone will be interested and that’s okay. Being part of this and having an outlet where I can write about whatever crosses my mind is just another part of finally accepting and coming to love myself. And maybe, just maybe there is someone who might indeed be interested and even take some inspiration from my words.
My idea of beauty changed drastically throughout the last years. I do not have a distinct memory of my perceptions of beauty when I was a kid. My parents never made a big deal out of it and when I saw my mom putting on make-up, I always perceived this act as a chore, an obligation that needs to be done. She wasn’t and still isn’t utterly interested in make-up and thus she never taught me how to use it.
Unlike other little girls that would dress up in their mom’s clothes and from time to time would even try out new bought lipstick and eyeshadow, I never did that. I was an involuntary chubby tomboy and my relationship to make-up was always coined by fear and shame. Fear that I wasn’t “cool” enough and shame because I was never taught how to use it by anyone and to be honest, I still don’t understand most of it. Those feelings would accompany me for years. Because we never really talked about beauty at home, I began to create my own definition. Now, I wasn’t very popular in elementary school and the few friends that I had were all extremely skinny. They were also very sporty and liked. Things that I wasn’t. And so, my little brain couldn‘t help but link popurality and slenderness together. My definition of beauty was created and years of fights with my appearance began.
Looking back, hating yourself from this young age is extremely saddening.
While other girls would later go to high school wearing make-up, I still hadn’t found my way to it. But for the first time, I didn’t feel sad about it; I actually saw it from a very practical point of view. I didn’t feel the need to sacrifice precious sleep in the morning to get up and make myself look pretty for people that I didn’t really liked. My father always encouraged me to stay “make-up free”. I don’t understand why exactly staying “make-up free” would be better and make me superior towards other girls. I just let him talk and didn’t put any further thoughts to it.
My childhood memories would have been a lot more positive if I had just accepted myself from time to time or simply gave myself a rest. But of course, that’s easier said than done and breaking old habits is a hell of a lot work. Constantly tormenting yourself is exhausting, let me tell you. I can’t change how I viewed myself as a young girl and I can’t erase all the negative feelings that have come with it. I want to believe that all this has shaped me into the human I am today and I try to see purpose in my past because I refuse to let all what has happened influence my future.
Fortunately, throughout the last months, my mindset has begun to change. This change didn’t come out of the blue but was something that I had to learn from the very beginning. I’m not ashamed to admit that I got help from a therapist for that. I don’t know if I could have managed changing this gridlocked way of thinking by myself and I’m thankful that I had the chance to get help from a professional when I truly needed it. There’s no weakness in asking for help and admitting that you can’t deal with certain things all by yourself. Rather do I see asking for help and maybe even stepping out of your comfort zone for that as an act that does take a lot of courage and strength and I have nothing but respect and admiration for that. I’m feeling much better today and that’s what counts.
I started to accept myself, my body and the way I looked. It’s something that I have to train and that I still need to get used to but it’s really nice to have a little room to breathe.
I now realize that my parents often tried to comfort me and make me feel better about myself by putting the looks of other girls down; “Saskia, you’re beautiful. Nobody likes skinny girls like that.” As a little girl, I just accepted this, that was their way of comforting. Now, I really wish my parents wouldn’t think that way. I don’t want to have my self-worth build upon putting down others. So what if they’re skinny? Who cares? It sounds really solemn but I truly believe that everyone is beautiful in their own way. You don’t need to standardize beauty to put people in categories. That would be awfully boring and I don’t want this. It’s pigeonholing (is this really a word?) and history has shown that this can eventually be extremely toxic.
My perception of beauty has changed drastically, too. It’s gotten a lot more open and not confined to slenderness anymore. I see beauty in a lot of people and it makes me genuinely happy. Seeing people that don’t necessarily fit in the beauty norm is amazing and exciting to me. „Weird“ make-up and outfits, hairstyles and „a bit“ more weight (whatever that means), I love it and I celebrate it all. I want people to express themselves the way they want to and it makes me happy seeing that this form of self-expression gets more and more recognition in the media, too. I don’t care if this representation might only happen partially. It’s a start and I’m convinced that it will soon start to get more and more.
As of me, it still happens that I’m self-conscious about my looks. But that’s normal and I’m not sure if that will ever change. But what also happens is that nowadays I can walk past a mirror and my first thought is “Oh, you look nice/cute/beautiful today.” I don’t cringe anymore whenever I see a photo of myself. I don’t look at my body full of disgust anymore. I realize now that having a belly and thick thighs is completely normal and beautiful and the photoshopped versions of women in ads aren’t the norm at all. I’m now interested in make-up out of my own interest, not because I feel like I have to because otherwise I wouldn’t look pretty. It’s my curiosity. And all that is so so great. I still have bad days from time to time but these aren’t the norm anymore. I can say that each day, I’m nearer to my goal of fully loving myself and I’m incredibly thankful for that.
Maybe my journey would have looked different if my parents taught me differently. Nobody can tell. In the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s my personal story and it made me who I am today. Maybe because of my past, I feel about my change so strongly and deeply happy. And that’s great.
For the first time in my life I mean it when I say: Yes, I am proud of myself.
Now go on and be awesome
-Saskia