pretty hurts, but only when we let it.

How I recognised the damaging nature of my crippling insecurity and learned to overcome it by standing in God's truth.

A Hidden Message

I was driving home after a hot 'n' sweaty workout to end my eventful day. On my way home, I listened to Spotify radio, which is rare, as I never sway from my perfectly aesthetic and categorised playlists. However, there had been some absolute bops playing on this specific one. You know, the nostalgic songs that carry a flood of memories and feelings from your childhood into the present time. Anyway, following some iconic tunes from Miley Cyrus and Ri Ri, Queen B made an appearance in the mix with 'pretty hurts'. Instantly, I was overcome with enthusiasm. I pulled my hand down into a fist and whispered "yes" under my breath before cranking the volume to feel the bass vibrate through my body (sorry, mum and dad). My car had magically transformed into a stadium, and Queen B's words started to speak louder than ever before.

"Perfection is a disease of a nation. Pretty hurts, pretty hurts. Pretty hurts. We shine the light on whatever's worst. You're tryna fix something. But you can't fix what you can't see. It's the soul that needs a surgery."

You see, at the time that I heard this song I was experiencing significant anxiety and days of dejection, which stemmed from a heightened sense of insecurity that permeated my thoughts, actions, and relationships. However, I was denying it for too long. I found myself constantly sticking on a smile and convincing myself and others that I was okay and could keep going. But that only made me feel like a fraud and a fake. As depressing as that sounds, it was what reality looked like in this season.

Luckily, that very day I had been to see my psychologist in an attempt to figure out where it was all stemming from. I had finally recognised the severity of it and agreed to reach out for help. I knew that the source needed to be identified to reverse the spiralling impacts that had occurred.

I always struggled with insecurity and felt like I would never measure up to specific standards or be genuinely chosen by another. Growing up, I was always surrounded by beautiful women everywhere I looked. In my home, my sister was blessed with my mother's gorgeous olive skin, petite figure, and speedy metabolism, while I believed that I was cursed with broad shoulders and thick legs, a not-so-fast metabolism, and to top it off 'transparent' and freckled skin that acted as a magnifier to the abundance of, what I perceived as, imperfections.

"Perceived Imperfections"

From the age of 11, I began comparing myself to the girls in my life and craving the attention I saw them receive. As I journeyed through school, I was surrounded by stunning girls with sun-kissed, flawless skin and perfectly toned bodies with defined abs and thigh gaps (which was all the craze!). Close friends would eat whatever they wanted and still maintain a perfectly flat stomach, or be able to go to the beach and freely relax in the sun. Whereas, I felt I had to be careful about what I consumed and refrain from overeating unless I wanted to bloat for the next week. Not to mention, going to the beach was far from relaxing as my mind raced, thinking about how I 'blended into the sand' and revealed all my bodily imperfections. Every day at school involved another damaging comparison, whether it be friends 'measuring' their tan against my pale skin, pointing out the bright red spot on my forehead, or mentioning I looked tired or unwell on the days I decided to wear less makeup. These comments that weren't always intended to be hurtful caused the wound, which was my insecure identity, to become severely infected.

So, what was my solution? Well, whack a bandaid on it, of course!

If I couldn't feel 'accepted' for being my authentic self, the only 'sensible' solution was to change who I was to make myself fit in. So, it began with the makeup. "I'll just wear mascara, and maybe a little lip gloss" gradually became thicker until I couldn't leave the house without a full face of makeup on. Then similarly, the fake tan began very light and became a weekly application of the darkest shade available. It involved hours of scrubbing off this facade until my skin turned red and sore and then reapplying it almost instantly. Leaving the house without a fake tan wasn't an option.

Finally, boys noticed me, girls accepted me and my popularity grew. I was invited to parties, included in groups, and became part of the 'in' crowd. But I still felt like I needed to do more, especially if I wanted to maintain this image that I had created. So, I began eating less and finding the most straightforward ways to do so. Any chance I got, I would either skip a meal or replace it with 'an apple', and if I became tired, coffee was an easy solution. To add to the equation, I was exercising intensely for hours at a time. Soon-after, results began to show. My clothing size dropped, the number on the scales lowered, my thigh gap widened, and my ribs began to show.

I had lost over 10 kilograms and arrived at my skinniest. People began consistently complimenting me, with statements like "you look so skinny and healthy!", "you look amazing!", "you are so inspirational". I craved gratification, especially from guys, and would layer on more facades to receive it. I was at a point where I was so far from myself that I didn't know who I was or what I believed. I was egotistical yet still insecure. I was trapped in a party-crazed, boy-obsessed, comparative environment, surrounded by people who were influencing me in all the wrong ways. But then, this reversed as I began putting on the weight that I had lost and I reached a point where I struggled to leave the house. I was lost and exhausted.

"Then you break when the fake facade leaves you in the dark".

23/12/19

"I feel distant. I have fallen into the culture that surrounds me...I'm lacking joy, I feel heartbroken and unworthy. I feel like I've lost something of great treasure."

28/12/19

"I feel insecure, worthless and sad. I hate looking at myself, and I'm not my usual self."

Proper Healing

"It's the soul that needs a surgery".

You see, when I simply placed a band aid on the wound, the infection only spread. To the rest of my body - my actions, beliefs and values, my friends and relationships, my environment, and anything else I came into contact with. The wound needed to be cleaned, stitched, dressed, and tended to to be able to properly heal. However, as my simple 'solution' caused severe damage, it now required more time, effort, and attention to heal completely.

During my entire struggle, I was seen. However, I was just looking in the opposite direction. Queen B was right, it is the soul that needs the surgery, and when I finally decided to turn around, the surgeon was standing there with open arms.

30.12.19

"You welcomed me home with loving arms."

In the following months, a radical transformation began to occur as the layers fell off. The fake tan was abandoned, I stopped going to parties, changed the way I spoke, stopped wearing makeup everywhere I went, cut off toxic relationships, joined a gym, and started eating for nourishment. All of the negative and damaged parts of me were taken out a piece at a time, making room for my true self to grow back healthier than before.

21.1.20

"I feel beautiful, happy, content."

22.1.20

"I am exactly where I am supposed to be."

23.1.20

" I am completely blessed."

When our identity is rooted in the things of this world, it involves clinging to something that will inevitably change, leaving us disappointed and lost. One minute we hear that "thinner is better", and then suddenly "bigger is better" or "natural is better", making it impossible to keep up. The harsh fact is that with a clock that never stops ticking, bodies DO change, people DO change, finances DO change, and circumstances DO change. But our God is immovable, constant, and secure. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End (Rev. 22:13). When we root our identity in Him, we will never lose ourselves. Christian, or not, it's essential to recognise what we place our identity in, as instability may cause everything to collapse in an instant. I placed my identity in my appearance and the approval of others, and when it changed or I didn't receive it, I was forced to change too, leaving me in a constant state of confusion.

I allowed the enemy to sit at my table. In fact, I pulled the chair out for him and served him a 5-course meal. I allowed him to rule over me and use my thoughts and insecurities to control me, define me, and change me. But luckily, every restaurant has a manager who has the power to control who sits at each table and the authority to ask a trouble maker to leave.

Insecurity is a long and difficult battle, especially in this comparative day and age. I still struggle with it regularly and often get caught up in appearance and approval. But, with each battle, I gain greater strength and power to recognise the luring tactics of the enemy and, with God's help, refocus on my true identity. God doesn't want me, or you, to hide because He made us, and He placed us exactly where He wants us. Our thoughts will inevitably come and go, but they don't have power over us unless we allow them to. And, by the power of the Holy Spirit, we can take every thought captive and make it obedient to Christ (2 Cor. 10:5). In all circumstances, I am fearfully and wonderfully made, I have purpose, I have power, I have life, I am seen, I am forgiven, I am worthy, and I am loved. And guess what? You are too.