For those of you who do not know, I have been struggling with body dysmorphia for about 20 years now. To help give a better understanding of what this is.
This... Is a mental illness. A mental illness that makes everything flaw, every wrinkle, pore and fold of skin disgusting. So much so that some days, you can't even look yourself in the mirror due to how revolted you are by your appearance.
For me, this comes from a traumatic past. A past that I have been running from and trying to bury for years. But not anymore. Over the last couple of months I have been taking part of a performance arts class.
In the beginning I was terrified. How am I going to be able to do this? Why did I pick a class that my body is the main focus? How am I going to make art like that when all I want to do is crawl out of my skin? Well I will tell you, it wasn't easy. But I knew of I ever wanted to be happy I had to face my fears head on.
The first day of class we were asked to explain what we wanted to get out of being here. After a long period of silence, I finally spoke up. When I shared my reasoning for being there I couldn't help but break down and cry. I was so ashamed of how I felt about myself. So ashamed to cry in front of complete strangers. I waited for laughter or maybe even harsh words. But nothing but kindness came from the others in the room... I was shocked. And from that moment on, I wanted to share more.
Over the next few months I was able to preform a piece dedicated to my past and the people who had caused me so much pain.
In this performance, I wore layer after layer of clothes. Some were used to represent the times of deep depression, others bought to hide my " trouble areas" as it was so lovingly put. And I hated them. I wanted them gone. Just like these clothes, I no longer wanted to carry the memories. The memories of pain, humiliation. I wanted them gone! I hated them, almost as much as I hated myself..... So I began to shred.
Buttons flew as my anger came out. No longer wanting to feel ashamed, no longer wanting to feel not good enough. No longer wanting to be afraid. And as all the clothes fell in a pile around my feet.... I was free!
I was naked.... excepted.... seen. And finally.... Finally, loved me for being me.
I will say, the process getting to this point was not easy. There were many of nights where I would shake, cry and relive the memories that I had barried for so long. But I was lucky enough to have my Dominant there to cradle me and keep me safe. He was just as much involved in this process as I was and I am so grateful for that. I don't think I would have every had the courage to deal with any of this on my own. He is and always will be my rock and I his.
But the real reason why I wanted to share all of this with you is that I wanted to let you all know is that you are all beautiful! And don't EVER let anyone else make you feel any less self worth. I love you all and I hope you get the chance to reach out, seek help and grow to be the better you. Because you are worth it.
