I grew up in a world feeling unwanted.
As if my family and I did not belong here.
The words from hate did not hurt me nearly as much as the hate that came from myself. I believed them. I believe them when they told me to go back where I came from, believing this was not my home. I believed it when they told me I was ugly, believing I still am. I learned to move forward each time but in reality I was moving deeper and deeper. I began to hate myself. I began to hate myself more and more after every insult, every ounce of hate, every audible gasp at my first sight, every intentional move to keep their distance from me, every rejection, every time I was called ugly, every time I felt rejected, every time I felt worthless, I believed it and internalized it. That became one of the only survival tools I learned. I was not good enough to cry I was too ugly to love I was not good enough to be happy I was not good enough to live. I told myself as a way to ignore and kill my feelings. Each time I wanted to feel numb. Each time I wanted to feel nothing but at least less. At one point I truly believed my life had no value. Even today I believe I am ugly. No matter how many times I tell myself I am beautiful no matter how many times I tell myself I am worthy No matter how many times I tell myself that I am worthy of love, deep down I do not believe it. Why did I feel so unwanted. Why do I continue to be. I love the world but it does not love me. So I thought for a long time. Perhaps in fact this world does love me perhaps, maybe, it’s actually that I do not have love for this world.