r/SelfHate

Hey guys, yesterday I went to a psychologist and after discussing with her I felt like I could achieve a new wave of peace. The main advice I got from the session was to trust my own reason and honestly that is the best advice I could have heard. Isn't self confidence all about this? Trusting yourself?

Life will not always be easy obviously but fear/negativity doesn't help and this bully I got in my own head stemmed a lot from fear and from my over-exposure to negativity on social media.

All I want to say today is that it's not cringe at all to be gentle to yourself and even if it feels "embarrassing", start taking steps to take care of yourself, even if you are a beginner compared to others. In my case, for instance there are years where I didn't go to the gym at all because I felt like I'd look too weak and pathetic compared to others. But logically speaking, everybody starts somewhere no matter the age, we're not alone. And honestly it's kind of cute to be imperfect and to learn with others. It builds beautiful connections. I am looking forward starting to work out very soon to feel better in my mind and body and to perhaps meet nice people.

Sometimes our own ego slows down the healing process cause we're very paranoid about showing mini flaws to others. But honestly this is how we grow and I find it beautiful to share life with others.

Believe me, being gentle to yourself is amazing and it feels weird at first because of all of the intrusive thoughts/demons that come to destroy your peace. But intrusive thoughts doesn't equate to reason, it can be quite the opposite actually.

I am in the process of healing and to everyone that struggled/struggles here with self hate, I love you and wish to see your heart warm up again, my lovely human. None of it is cringe, and if it is a little cringe, it's the cute kind of cringe, not the bad kind.

TL;DR:
My emotionally immature parents constantly mocked fat people, gay people, Black people, disabled people. I KNOW they’re awful people, and I hate that I grew up around that kind of intolerance. I’m ashamed of them.
But now I’m an adult, and in their eyes I’m “obese” (UK size 16 in reality), and I can’t love myself because of the comments and mockery I grew up with. But today, I need all the confidence I can get.
How did you get past it?

TW : dysmorphia, depression, golden child, self hatred, fat-shaming

Hey, I need to talk.
Partly to myself, and partly in the hope of reaching people like me, to hear where they are now, whether they managed to finally love themselves.

I’m F36, turning 37 soon. After a second burnout, I decided to become an entrepreneur and launch my own business (design consulting and audit services for companies).
I’m currently following a program to structure everything, and honestly, it’s going really well.

For context: I’ve been in therapy for almost 10 years now (time flies), mainly because I grew up with the classic boomer parent combo: narcissistic mother, absent working father, both emotionally immature. I also have a younger brother: textbook golden child (and of course he’s a boy, so he’s automatically amazing, that's the rule), also narcissistic and manipulative toward my parents.

I’ve distanced myself from them (low contact). I’m trying, more or less, to maintain a superficial relationship, but the grieving process is ongoing.

I hate myself. I always have. I genuinely despise myself. And I grew up in an environment where my father (my absent, hardworking hero) constantly mocked fat people, Black people, Muslims, loud confident women who dared to exist, disabled people, gay people. Fun fact, I'm bi. Of course I didn't came out.

Honestly, if he had been force to work with a strong fat Black lesbian, I think he would’ve imploded on the spot (and she would have been my hero instead :D).

As a teenager, I started gaining weight. Looking back at pictures now, I was completely within normal beauty standards, but in France in the 2000s/2010s, that was already considered “chubby.”
I was a shy child, and I kept shrinking myself more and more. “Not taking up space” was considered a quality by my mother, especially since my brother already occupied so much of her time and mental space.

I sank into an overwhelming depression. I felt like I couldn’t breathe at home. I had no safe space. I finally got my own bedroom at 14, but I wasn’t allowed to close my bedroom door, or even the bathroom door (“in case someone else needed it”, for context, we had two bathrooms). I started showering at odd hours just so I could lock the door and not be a nuisance to others. Of course, even then, I still somehow was (“the sound of the water bothers us while we’re reading before sleep”).

At the same time, I watched helplessly as my brother rose to power in the family dynamic: manipulating my parents constantly, talking to them like dogs (and they hate dogs, so imagine), making my mother cry from exhaustion, playing with her nerves.
The few times I intervened when he crossed already ridiculous boundaries, my mother turned around and screamed at me to “mind my own business.”

And I kept getting worse.

Twice, I tried talking to my mother. I told her, “I don’t think I’m doing very well… I kind of want to die.” She ignored me. Twice. I even repeated and rephrased it because I thought she hadn’t heard me. She had.
Today, when I bring it up, she “doesn’t remember.” She remembers nothing, actually, and besides, “that probably never happened anyway.” Cool.

I finished high school and looked for universities in another city. I knew I needed distance from them in order to exist for myself.

Every educational choice I made was unacceptable to them. My father didn’t speak to me for 6 months when I told him I didn’t want to study science, and later gave me another 4 months of silence when I told him I wanted to study design (which is actually what I do today: a mix of design and brand consulting for companies).

Eventually, they “let me leave.” I met my first real boyfriend, stayed with him for 5 years, and he seemed to love me. I needed that love so desperately.
Long story short: he was an absolute asshole, a narcissistic abuser, and he finished destroying what little self-esteem I had left.

I had already started developing eating disorders before that, but things got much worse afterward. I ate my emotions because I needed comfort so badly. I gained 20 kg in one year.
You can imagine my parents’ reaction when they saw me again — for them, appearance is EVERYTHING.

I developed body dysmorphia at an Olympic level. I completely dissociated from my body. In my head, I’m either “a little chubby” or “completely obese.” Reality is somewhere in between: technically overweight according to BMI, UK size 16.
Every time I see a photo of myself, it’s torture. It feels like discovering myself all over again. Family gatherings are torture too (my aunts and uncles are basically like my parents when it comes to fat people).

Since then, I met a wonderful man — empathetic, kind, someone who went through similar things himself. We’ve been together for 10 years.

And even with him, this body dysmorphia is still ruining my life.

Back to my introduction: I’m currently building my own business. I hired a professional photographer because I need photos to market my services (if you don’t show yourself online, people think it’s suspicious). Today I received the pictures.

I HATE MYSELF.

Not only do I apparently weigh 25 kg more than I do “in my head,” but I also somehow aged 12 years.

Because apparently my denial had decided I wasn’t aging either.
Spoiler alert: I am.

It was already incredibly hard for me to take the leap into self-employment. It was such a huge step outside my comfort zone. I was proud of myself. The child version of me would honestly have been impressed.
But how am I supposed to confidently sell expertise when I still have my father’s voice screaming in my head that fat people are lazy, incompetent, pathetic, ridiculous?

How do you detach yourself from that voice?

Please, how do you silence your parents’ voices once you’re an adult?

Is this a reason to cut????? My dad here isn't the issue, it's my mom. Ever since age 3 I've been getting screamed at for things like how I straight up exist. She is also an alcoholic, but she only gets to the "Out of her mind drunk" after 4pm or so, and that's when she'll get pissed at every slight annoyance, and will scream at me & my dad non stop, flip people off, threaten to take the next flight out (she'll get to the point were she will pack her bags just to scare me), throw shit at me, and the worst thing is when she isn't drunk, she will pick fights with my dad (who is super kind), which is hard to have happen. Usually this he'll will end at 10pm, after she finishes ranting on how "she should've been a better mother" which come on how would I even love someone who says that every single day?!? During these hours ill be in the basement trying to hind until she finds me, then ill get yelled at then some nights go to my room and Cut when she's gone to sleep. She also sometimes says I am such a terrible boy, and I should go fck myself. Can anyone else help me out or can relate?

I’ll start by saying I hate myself. I don’t like anything about myself. That said I haven’t been able to make friends and when I think I am I find out I’m just a moron to think anyone could like me. Fuck people fuck life. I’ll learn to accept that people just don’t like me. That’s all I have. I just don’t know how to handle rejection from friends/people anymore.

I’ve never held hands, kissed, had sex or even been on a date with a guy. People would always tell me “you’re still young, you’ll meet someone when you least expect it!” It’s never happened and I doubt it ever will at my age.

Guys never show interest in me because I’m hideously ugly and socially inept. On dating sites, I never get any matches unless it’s a bot or scammer. I’m literally the ONLY single person in my family. Even my younger cousins are getting married, buying housing and having kids. I feel like I’m so behind on life. I’ve always dreamed of the day when I could have my first kiss and someday get married and start a family but it looks like I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. Even my family has given up on me and says I should learn to be happy being alone. I’m NOT happy. I want someone to hold me when I’m sad and someone to do fun things with. I don’t even have any friends because of my poor social skills.

Therapy hasn’t helped me. I don’t think they know how to help me. They keep suggesting joining clubs and meetups but I’ve tried that. They don’t get that no one wants to be friends with an ugly girl. Even forever alone guys aren’t interested in me!

One time my neighbor tried to set me up with her friend’s son who was a few years younger than me and also had autism. She kept saying how excited he was to meet me. The day came and I can’t forget how disappointed he looked when he actually saw me. My neighbor and her friend kept trying to encourage him to hang out with me and same with my parents but he kept making excuses. I’m pretty sure it was because of how ugly I am. I have NEVER been called pretty by anyone except family and elderly women.

I really wish I could win the lottery so I could get plastic surgery to actually look decent. I hate my parents for giving me these awful genes.

I wake up constantly angry. Anxiety rules my day. I don’t feel love for anyone. The people that “care” for me don’t have any fucking idea. And the advice they do give is shit and shallow. Should I do it?

A while ago I met a girl. She approached me after a music thing. Said she liked my sound and chatted me up. She was seriously pretty and it seemed like there was interest and good vibes.

Did we trade numbers or anything? Nope. I chickened out. Just convinced myself in the moment that she was being nice because...well, I can be very quick to write myself off as not being good enough. (I'm working on it).

After that day, there was an event or two when I thought I might bump into her again because we'd shared about our hobbies and places we go. Never did, though. I was frustrated at myself that I missed my chance, but I moved on eventually.

Fast forward to a few days ago, I'm out somewhere and someone calls my name. I turn, and there she is! I mean, this is months from the last time I saw her. I was taken by total surprise. She approached me and remembered my name? Dear diary.

We talk. Seemed like before: good vibes and interest. I gave her my number. (Lot of female friends in my life have said that getting asked for their number made them feel pressured and put on the spot, so I wanted to be respectful of her).

I haven't heard from her as of yet. Been days. Not sure if I will. So, did I misread things? I don't wanna sit here and overanalyze every word we shared, every possible sign I perceived, but work is slow and I'm twiddling my thumbs in boredom.

Yup, just bothered by myself and by dating in general. I will overcome and move on, I know, but right now I just accept that I'm frustrated.