It's 1:30 in the morning and I just got finished crying, yet again, about how much of a failure I am as a human being.
Many people will understand this situation. If you've ever struggled with depression, anxiety, body-image issues, etc. then you are all too familiar with the late nights laying in bed, eyes wide open, as tears are slowly drying on your cheeks and you comprehend how you got to this level of self-hatred. It's difficult for me to describe exactly what I'm feeling at these moments and why all I can do is quietly cry as to not wake up everyone else.
I thought I was doing so much better. I thought I was happy again. I thought.
Tonight I had yet another discussion with my mom about being healthy and exactly what foods I should eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner to achieve my goal of being a 17 year old health goddess with clear skin and a flat stomach. Exercise has always been somewhat important to me as it's been a way to keep my depression at a minimum and my stomach somewhat average. I've recently missed a couple weeks of consistent working out because of some health reasons, so lately I've been feeling a bit gross and sloth-like. My energy level is much lower and my general self esteem isn't very high. As I was complaining to my mom about how best to eat healthier when I work two jobs and can only eat when I have a break, I realized how I've had this same conversation with her many times before and it always ends the same- with my mom exasperated with my stubbornness and me in a crying heap at 1 in the morning.
I've always been a bit bigger. Sure, I workout. But I've never had the body of a supermodel and I've always had extra fat on me. In middle school I encountered countless fat jokes and it only carried on into high school despite how hard I tried to be healthy and keep a good weight. These boys were cruel to me but kind to my best friend who was (and still is) conventionally attractive. I began to get the idea that most people will only be nice to me if I'm pretty. Most boys anyway. I never necessarily had the desire to be liked by boys, but when you actually develop feelings for one? Things get tricky in your mind. It's a constant battle of "I'm a strong, independent woman who don't need a man," and "please just love me back." And when you're a bigger girl struggling with wanting to be beautiful and that boy does not like you back and he decides to date the girl skinnier and prettier than you then you feel like a failure at 16. And when you finally move past that and decide you love yourself and don't need any boys in your life but your mom says you're overweight and she worries about your health, that self-love comes falling apart and your glued up pieces from the past begin breaking again.
That's the thing about self-love. It's conditional.
My love for myself is so fragile, it disappears with one comment about my weight or my abrasive personality. The past few weeks I've had a general terrible outlook of myself. I hate criticism; especially when it comes from a person who could do well to listen to their own words. On the one hand, I want to scream, "Screw you!" to the world and go eat a bowl of ice cream. But on the other hand, I want to drink only water and eat fruit and vegetables and have a flat stomach. I usually go with screaming,"Screw you!" and eating the ice cream while fuming over what my friend said to me about some flaw I have.
I'm really not the easiest person to be around.
I try so hard to love myself and accept who I am as a human- flaws and all. I try so hard to love myself and ignore any person who says anything critical of me.
My self-love is so conditional, it's paper thin.
There is good news in all of my mess.
I have an unconditional love that I can never lose. "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us..." 1 John 3:16. Jesus loved me through all of my sinfulness and imperfections- so much so that he sacrificed Himself for me. He is always ready and willing to forgive. He does not look at me and tell me I'm a failure in His sight. Jesus' unconditional love is the complete opposite of my flimsy self-love. Through my nights of absolute and utter hatred of my entire being, He whispers His everlasting love to me. He forgives all that I've done wrong and tells me I am beautiful in His sight. Jesus does not hold me to the world's standards or anyone else's, and for that I am so grateful. On the mornings where I can hardly stand to open my eyes, Jesus helps me up. During the nights where I feel worthless and ugly, Jesus reminds me of His perfect love for me and how I'm priceless in His sight.
It's beautiful to know that the Creator of the universe sees me as His daughter and someone worth sacrificing for. Ultimately, I look to Him for all of my joy and as my source of hope in the world. Yes, it hurts knowing I'm not nearly as thin as I possibly could be and my annoying personality isn't going anywhere. But the fact that Jesus loves me is enough. It has to be enough. My constant battle with depression and body-image is made so much easier when I lean against Jesus and cast all my cares on Him.
I will never be perfectly happy with myself. I will always struggle somewhat with who I am and how I look. The fat jokes will probably never be forgotten. But holding fast to Jesus is what's keeping me alive.
And that's the difference between my fragile self-love and Jesus' radical unconditional love.
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