I always believed I was in the wrong from the way they laughed and called me a *****. Their words ringing in my head as the ringing of the school bell meant that I would be safe again. Safe from hateful eyes. Safe from evil words. Safe from βfriendsβ. Am I in the wrong? For wanting to be pretty like the girls on my feed? For wanting to shed my skin to fit into the standards set?
I tricked myself into thinking it was my fault. I created lines on my body to replicate the ones made on paper. Some ragged and raised, others seeping red. I let their words settle into my body like a parasite. Damaging and eating away at my resolution to keep on living.