I was taught to hate myself – it isn’t a choice 

I’m supposed to be meeting with my care manager soon, but I don’t feel up to it.   I’m tired and I don’t feel like being seen by anyone.

People tell me to “work on myself” or to “love myself“.  Neither is going to happen. How can I even like anything about myself when I’ve had a lifetime of being bullied, rejected, excluded and made to feel worthless and ugly?  If I had the slightest bit of confidence, it would just make me more of a target.  The world taught me the ugly truth from an early age, which is damage that cannot be undone.  People either ignore me, hate me or pity me (the pity is probably the worst). I’ve never felt accepted by any ‘group’ that I belong to, whether it’s people with mental illness, the transgender and wider LGBT community and society in general.   The only person that will be affected negatively by my death will be my mother.

For as long as I can remember, people have punished me for my flaws.  Whether it’s because I’m ugly or transgender (or both).  The worst part is that they’ve got away with it and they’re still getting away with it. When I was a child and up to adolescence,  I thought that bullying would stop, but it never does – it just takes on different forms. Kids are cruel and adults are cruel too.

If I were brave and strong, I would’ve ended it years ago.  But I’m a coward, afraid of failing again or being hospitalized.  I know how I’d do it and where I’d go, but getting there will take a final surge of strength that I simply don’t have right now. I wish I could be 100% certain that it will work and that I’d have nothingness to look forward to.

I feel ridiculously ill right now. I’ve been in survival mode for far too long and I’m tired….exhausted.  It might be worth it if there was actually something to look forward to or someone to live for.  There’s m help for this….I just don’t belong here.

The difference between self-love and narcissism 

Many people confuse narcissism for self-love.  I used to consider self-love as a form of narcissism because it was easier for me to consider self-love as a defect, rather than something positive.

But now I get it. It’s actually relatively easy to differentiate between someone who loves themselves and a narcissist:

  • Self-love is borne out of confidence, comfort in one’s own skin and happiness. Those who practice self-love have little or no need for external validation.  Those who practice self-love will readily compliment others, expecting little or nothing in return.  Self-love is positive.
  • Narcissism is borne out of insecurity and self-doubt. A narcissist needs constant external validation in order to feel good about themselves.  Narcissists seldom reciprocate when it comes to validating others (for example giving someone a compliment).  Narcissism is negative.

While I don’t love myself, I hope that I have gained an understanding of self-love and I no longer consider it a form of narcissism.

I admit to my own insecurities and I turn them inward.  But many insecure people turn their insecurities outwards, by either becoming bullies or narcissists (or both).

Feel free to disagree or add to the discussion.  I’m not a mental health professional and I don’t pretend to be.  I just try to study human behavior so as to understand people better.  

Imagined ugliness vs. legitimate ugliness

I have a great deal of empathy for people who suffer from BDD ( Body dysmorphic disorder).   I am not downplaying how debilitating and dangerous BDD is for sufferers.

One thing I noticed from joining BDD groups and interacting with people with the disorder is that none of them were ugly at all.   In fact, the overwhelming majority of them seemed to be very beautiful.    I ended up quitting those groups, because it became apparent to me that I don’t have BDD at all.  People have suggested that I do have BDD, but my ugliness is real and my physical flaws are grotesque. Interacting with people with BDD did more harm than good.

It does make me wonder how many people with real (not imagined) flaws are told that they have BDD.  It’s a horrible way to fob somebody off who has legitimate reasons to call themselves ugly.

If I had BDD rather than real ugliness, I’d be able to find love more easily, because people would find me attractive, despite my poor self-esteem and imagined flaws.  I wouldn’t have been bullied at school and beyond, but even if I was,  I’d know that the bullying was only to hurt me, rather than the words being true.  I wouldn’t have to hear people tell me bullshit nonsense such as “looks aren’t important” or “beauty is on the inside”. At the end of the day, if you’re attractive, people will gravitate to you whether you believe you’re attractive or not.  But being legitimately ugly is an awful curse to be afflicted with and cannot be fixed with therapy or medication.

Transphobic Abuse (Yet Again) 

Yet again, I’ve been subjected to online abuse and yet again, the individual is from here in Rochester as was the case before.  On OK Cupid of all places.  Usually it’s Twitter or online forums. I’ve noticed a significant rise in hostility since I made the grave mistake of coming back here in July.

The only reason I’m not self harming right now is that I’m too broken to care.  If what he said is true, how come many (straight) men hit on me regularly on dating sites?  I don’t even get misgdndered anymore, not even by people prone to making mistakes. But whether it’s true or not, it terrifies me. It’s the forth time in 3 months that I’ve had ‘issues’ with targeted harassment online and offline from people in Rochester – supposedly an ‘accepting’ city.  

I’m too afraid to go out on my own most of the time.  Even leaving my motel room  is becoming difficult.   

These words are just another sign that I need to take my own life, before o become so mentally far gone that I’m incapable of carrying out my plan.  

I want to go home, wherever that is.  Maybe I’ll find it in the next life, because I don’t see any hope at all for this one .  If this level of hatred is the new norm, I’m finished.  

Help.   I’ve never felt so alone or so scared in my entire existence.   

Try Walking In My Shoes (The Impact of Being Ugly or Unattractive) 

There’s a reason I don’t watch television or YouTube, I don’t read magazines and I tend not to look at my news feed on Facebook or Twitter:


We have collectively become more superficial than I’ve ever know in my lifetime. It has literally reached a point where you can’t avoid it.

As an ugly person, I find it utterly depressing. I cannot watch television anymore, I don’t watch current era films or read magazines. Such things have become triggers. Even my news feed can be triggering, which is why I’ve been debating whether to just quit Facebook altogether for some time.

Phrases such as “looks aren’t important” and “beauty is on the inside” or “be your own kind of beautiful” are essentially a giant, steaming crock of snit and are insulting to me.  You cannot seriously tell me you honestly believe that nonsense, especially not in 2016.

Looks *do* matter.  While attractiveness alone won’t get you far (unless you are a model), it certainly gets your foot firmly in the door.  This applies to dating, employment, how you’re treated as a customer and friendships.  The attractive people who complain about their lives at least have the ability to go out there and get what they want, because they’re far less likely to be rejected, harassed or ridiculed.

If I were attractive at all (and been born a cisgender female), I might still have the depression I have and I’d still have ADD. But if I had the confidence to go out there without feeling like a freak, my life would’ve been drastically different from day one.  I probably wouldn’t have no self-esteem and PTSD from years of bullying and being tormented.  My dating pool would’ve been much larger, so I wouldn’t have ended up with the same partners that I’ve had, who just wanted me because they could easily control me (someone with no self worth is easier to control and more susceptible to abuse).  I’m so ugly that people pre-friendzone me, just in case I dare hit on them in the future.  You can’t tell me it doesn’t happen – so many people remind me I’m their “friend” for that reason alone (I may be ugly and depressed, but I’m not stupid).

When I first came out as transgender three and a half years ago, people literally told me I needed to plaster my face in makeup.  I even had drag queens offer to help me, out of pity.  I kept this transgender curse inside for so long because even as a child, “an ugly spastic boy can never be a girl” would circle around in my head, caused by constant name calling and exclusion.

If you disagree, that’s your prerogative.  But like the Depeche Mode song, I would love to you try walking in my shoes.  You’d make the same mistakes I made.  Perhaps you’d have ended your life a long time ago, if you had to see what I see in the mirror every day. 

Please take what I’ve written into consideration before you judge me for hating myself and having no self esteem.   

A Lifetime Of Being Bullied

From very early on, I was subjected to bullying from my peers. The earliest incidence of bullying was at just six years old. The bullying essentially ruined school for me and caused me to dread going into school. Most of the bullying was in the form of name-calling and being generally excluded. It was very rarely, if ever physical in nature.

The names I was constantly called have stuck with me for life. These included spastic, spazz, retard, freak, ugly and deformed. I was asked why my younger brothers weren’t ugly like I am. I was constantly left out, always picked last when it came to teams in physical education. Feeling excluded was awful in itself; I made very few friends throughout my childhood.

Bullying continued long after I left school at 16. I was bullied in the same way as I was at school at a youth training scheme I joined (and eventually quit). I’ve been bullied at workplaces too, only that has been in the form of people talking behind my back, or obnoxious bosses seeing me as an easy target.

Bullying prevented me from coming out as transgender much earlier and it caused me to hide my sexual orientation too. I knew that an ugly boy could never become a girl. That reality set in at a very young age, when I became conscious of my gender identity, which corresponded roughly with the time I started to loathe my appearance.

I don’t keep in touch with many people from when I was a child/teenager, but I do still speak to a couple of them occasionally. One person I went to school with suggested that it was just done in jest and that those people (bullies) would probably be very sorry if they knew of the psychological damage they’ve inflicted on me. But I told her that’s nonsense. The reality is that child bullies often grow up to be adult bullies, only their bullying takes on a different form. Perhaps they bully coworkers or their subordinates. Perhaps they’re now controlling partners or controlling parents.

One crushing blow I received when I became an adult was the realization that bullying does not stop after adolescence. I continued to experience the same level of exclusion at the various jobs I’ve worked at after I left school. It was just as bad as school, if not worse, because you can be fired if you’re seen as the problem.  I’ve been in relationships where partners have bullied me or manipulated me, though truth be told, my weakness and my inability to say “no” and stand up for myself definitely enabled them. 

I can’t forgive the people that have tormented me at various points in my life. If there’s a god up there, I’ll leave forgiveness to god. Those people have scarred me for life and caused me to repress my identity to the point that it almost killed me. The names they tormented me with have stuck with me 2 decades on, causing me to hate myself.

People tell me to love myself, but how is that even possible? I never got the chance to develop any kind of self-esteem. If I had my way, I would actually track some of the perpetrators down and sue the shit out of them for the damage they’ve caused.

The bullying I face now is in the form of transphobic harassment.  It has happened several times this year, whether on the street or online.  It is not something I can deal with, largely because it is an attack on something I can’t change, but wish that I could.  It has cast me back to feeling like the frightened child that I once was.  

The truth is, I bet that those who bullied me are happy and successful now (I know for a fact that one of them is). This is the world we live in – where being a bad person will enable you to rise to the top. Donald Trump’s success and popularity is living proof of this, even if you refuse to accept what I say.

Don’t worry bullies – I hate myself more than you could ever hate me.  

How (and when) did I become so helpless and pathetic?

Up until January last year, I managed to hold down a job and I was at least somewhat functional.   Prior to that, I’d actually become relatively tough when dealing with certain issues.

As many of you will know, I was bullied and picked on for many years as a child and teenager (this is where I get my low self esteem from and fear of children and teenagers).  It took me until my early-mid 20’s to toughen up and start to feel like I could be free to go wherever I want.  In fact, I don’t recall an incident of anyone ever messing with me, but that changed when I started transition.  

Even after I was devastated by my wife telling me our relationship was over and finding out about me being transgender, I still managed to single-handedly move us all (me, my partner, cats and furniture) from South Florida to Massachusetts.  Despite not knowing the area, I found us a place to live and a job. 

When I was as young as 13, I used to cross London on my own on the way to see my grandad in Kent.  I didn’t even sweat it and this was back in the days when there was no GPS or internet to guide you. 

…..then I look at what I’ve become and it depresses the shit out of me.

I don’t work.   I haven’t worked since the beginning of January 2015, when I made the mistake of leaving a good job, despite most people there hating me.  I have gone from one bad situation to another.   And from being someone who went out a lot, I don’t go out much at all, unless it’s to the store for groceries or to the clinic. Even those things cause me a massive amount of stress and can totally drain me 

My depression and anxiety have worsened, despite trying so many pills and attending therapy regularly.  As I’ve got older, I’ve also sterted to feel like I belong even leas, because my generation is no longer valid.  My hope has all but gone and as I’ve got older, I’ve become more disgusted by my reflection and with my body in general. 

I’ve lost everything: my soulmate, my job, my car, my cats, my pride, my dignity and my anonimity.  I don’t want to go back to being male, but I miss not being anywhere near as terrified of life and of people as I am now.  I wish I could just blend in and not be noticed.  Nobody noticed my height when I was living as a male and few people commented on it.

To add insult to injury, people (even some friends) treat me like a child that has no wisdom or life experience.  Even people younger than me treat me this way.  It is such a colossal loss of dignity to go from being strong, brave and independent to being treated as an unstable and helpless little girl, incapable of making her own decisions. While I would love to be able to relive my entire childhood as my true self, I’m not keen on being trreated that way at this age and at this stage in my life. 

While I’ve had several relatioshiops since I started transition, many people have treated me as a piece of meat, used then cast aside and even sexually assaulted while drunk last year.  It has been a dehumanizing experience, to say the least. It has left me even more ‘damaged’ than I was before. 

Several recent incidents of real life and online harassment and abuse have caused more scarring and have reopened old wounds that I had largely been able to close prior to transition.  The most recent incidents I managed to document as blog entries:

Harassed again (difficulty using buses)

Re-opened wounds

Had these incidents happened 5 years or more ago, let’s just say that the outcome would’ve been very different, as I would’ve retailiated.   No one would’ve got away with re-opening old wounds or embarrassing me like that and I would’ve taken care of it, dignity intact.  

I have tried so hard to find it, but that spark that helped me claw myself out of bad situations is long gone.  I can’t lift myself out of this never ending low.  I feel like part of me died when my wife and I broke up, even though (transgender or not) we were probably doomed from the start due to our mental health issues and dependence on self-medicating. 

I know I need to end my life.  I just wish I had the guts to do it, as opposed to continuing this leech-like existence of pain and dysphoria.  But I would give anything to get my resilience back.  At least I’d be able to work and drive again and could possibly tolerate life for a few more years, as I’d be able to ‘buy’ safety and could pay for badly needed transitional procedures to reduce my dysphoria.

Anyway, I’m done writing for today.  I’ll leave you with my favorite Alice In Chains song “Nutshell”, which I have always identified with: