i think i’ve been self conscious since i was six or seven. i remember having really bad toothaches because of my love for sweets. back then, when everything was still perfect, when i’m still not used to tears and scary nightmares every night, i thought it was bad to be scared, to fear something or to cry. i was forcing myself not to cry. i remember having the thoughts of preventing myself from letting my mother see that i’m on the verge of crying. who cries in toothaches when you are seven years old, anyway?
i remember thoughts of telling my own self not to show mom that i’m hurting. that i am in pain. that i am sad. that i am breaking. that i can’t take it anymore. that i might give up. that i’m weak. that i am not what they think i am. that i’m just a sad, lonely, broken girl at the age of seven.