Self Confidence (or How I found self love)

Hello, Reader!

Today I’ve decided to share with you something really close to my heart that I haven’t ever really spoken about. I’m here to share my self-confidence story because it’s important to acknowledge that it doesn’t happen overnight; you’ll notice that it took me years to get where I am in my perception of myself. Everyone’s journey to finding their self-confidence is so unique and so personal and sometimes it’s really difficult to even begin that journey or notice where you are on that journey. Hopefully reading about mine can inspire you to actively work towards loving yourself more or at least give you some faith that you won’t be stuck in this mind state forever.

When I was little - we’re talking nine, ten years old - I absolutely hated the way I looked. I had issues with my self-image from a very young age because I saw that in comparison to other girls in my class, I wasn’t conventionally “pretty”; I didn’t have long, soft hair or a nice smile or the attention of boys like the “pretty” girls had. I vividly remember getting so angry often simply because I didn’t like the person I saw in the mirror and I even shouted at my mum once asking why she “had to have such an ugly child”... I can’t imagine how hurtful it must have been for her. I didn’t understand how to deal with these emotions, I based my self-worth on other people- on whether some boys in my class thought I was cute (and they didn’t). So when I was being made fun of for being ‘ugly’ I believed them, because what else was I supposed to believe?

This really stuck with me throughout my early teens. At thirteen, I got myself into a ‘relationship’ with a boy older than me, because I was flattered that he would notice me and find me attractive. It began innocently but by the end of our year-and-a-half-long (and extremely toxic) relationship, my self-esteem was non-existent- it was even worse than it was, to begin with. During this time, I was constantly criticised about my height, my weight, my beliefs and opinions, my identity. I was never good enough, there was always something not right about me. The last thing he ever said to me was that he only asked me out because he felt sorry for me anyway.

Following this, I came in and out of depressive episodes for years. Some lasted a few months, some a few weeks, some only a few days, but every one of them was just as hard to survive through. Coming out of them, I knew I wanted to be happy and to have bunches of self-love, but I couldn’t figure out how to get there. I tried everything I could think of; positive affirmations, meditation, getting familiar with my body, exercise… nothing really worked. I wanted to be comfortable in my skin, to be confident in the way I looked and to be so secure in myself that my worth wouldn’t depend on anyone else. I knew what I wanted, I just didn’t know how to get it.

I settled for simply being grateful for what I have; ‘I don’t care if I’m beautiful, my body is healthy and functional and it keeps me alive.’ I stopped caring about what my body looked like because I had much more important things to care about. At this point I was about fifteen or sixteen, preparing for my GCSEs and I spent all my brain power studying instead of occupying myself with the way my stomach folds or my thighs get bigger when I sit down or the way I’m too tall or too chubby or whatever it was that I was “supposed to” think about. I forgot about my insecurities because all I knew was that this body allows me to be productive and successful and that’s what matters to me instead of whether this body allows me to be attractive to boys. I took care of myself to be healthy and able rather than to make sure I’m skinny or pretty.

Soon enough, this attitude allowed me to notice the beauty in this body that I began appreciating so much. My self-perception shifted from “my body keeps me alive” to “I’m beautiful and sexy and I don’t care what others think”. I woke up one morning and decided I’m going to be a bad b… and I was. Starting Sixth Form, I felt so good in my skin- and it showed! I wore clothes I liked and felt good in, not caring whether others will think I’m looking cute or not. (I mean, looking back some of those outfits were definitely ~a choice~ but at the time I thought I was looking bomb and that’s all that matters.) At the beginning of year 13, I got over my fear and I cut my hair short. This internalised idea that ‘pretty’ girls have long, soft hair from my childhood had to go. I chopped my hair, sent it off to charity and looked (and felt) like a new woman. Alongside studying every day, year 13 brought me a new kind of confidence- a more distinct style and security in myself that I’ve never felt before. This journey took years and years of growing up but I’m here, owning my body and my life.

Obviously, I still have days when I feel like poop. I get very insecure and shy when I’m in a new environment with new people… but then I just fake it! Even pretending to feel confident and comfortable in a situation gives you that kick to actually feel it. So let me end with a cliché I stand by; fake it until you make it.

I hope that this inspires you in some way and if you have any questions at all, feel free to drop me a message- you can use the sidebar on the left here or DM me on Instagram!

Love, Agnes xo