In a world of idolizing models, perfecting dietary rituals, and catering to others' eyes, it is desperately hard navigating a peaceful life as an adolescent girl in America. Ever since I can remember, all I thought about was how people perceive me. From a young age, I had been wrapped up in the disease of insecurity. Yet, this is not a disease that can be cured easily.

The first time I had heard someone speak negatively about my body was in third grade. A girl from school wrote me a note with a pig drawn on it with the words: “Alyssa is a fat pig.” Suddenly, I began seeing my body in a negative way. A few months later, a girl from school saw me at gymnastics class in a leotard, and proceeded to tell everyone at recess how “chubby” I looked. I began wanting to look like my friends who were smaller than me. Being called “fat,” “chubby,” and “big,” with aggressive and mean intent at a young age implied that those words had a negative connotation.

In sixth grade, classmates began making different types of comments about my body. Other kids gave me nicknames in reference to my chest, and grabbed parts of my body. One day, I was at the park after school, when a boy I knew walked up to me. He fake tripped, and grabbed my chest, proceeding to laugh at me with all of his friends. I was no longer tied to just the word “fat” and I felt happy that I was more desirable, but still not confident in my body.

I was deceived into thinking my body was something to be ashamed of. From a young age, we are influenced by what we hear, see, and are told what is beautiful and not. We are exposed to so many peoples’ lives on the internet and our generation is suffering the effects of this exposure. Continuing into high school, people still made comments about my body. I felt guilty every time I ate, knowing I would regret it later on. Over time, I felt as if I had lost my sparkle. Last year, I found myself surrounded by people I considered friends, suddenly making fun of my body. They made fun of what I ate, how I looked, and gave me nicknames like, “fat lys.” Seeing these texts in a groupchat broke my heart and suddenly I was in the mindset of my 9 year old self.

I finally decided to distance myself from anything and anyone that made me feel small and tore my confidence down. I allowed myself to find parts of myself beautiful again. I began to see more representations of my body type on social media as well. I had to engrain in my mind that not one person is the same. I realized that I was young and impressionable and that these uncomfortable, unsolicited comments about my body were never anyone’s right to make. There are so many beautiful body types that have been neglected by the media, and hidden from the true appreciation they deserve.

I have learned a lot about society, and how I had fallen victim to these unattainable standards that should have never signified someone’s status of beauty in the first place. I feel sad for the little girl I once was, who was told she wasn’t beautiful, and let down by so many people she once called friends. Our bodies are so much more than what meets the eye, they function 24/7 to help keep us alive and healthy. I now listen to my body's cravings, let it rest, and focus on how I feel. Beauty is confidence, health, spirit, kindness, and so much more than a skeleton and skin.

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