Rejected to Respected in the eyes I have
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Rejected to Respected in the eyes I have

I know that I am built with flaws.... flaws that worry me often. Sometimes I think about the flaws I carry, and wonder how I can magnify them, in a way that is respected. I am a total worry wart, tired, all the time, and constantly holding myself to a standard , that currently, I hold myself to, and no one else. I am not aware of many disapproving people, though I know for fact they are out there. Living with my most impactful flaw I have, everyday is a battle...My biggest flaw, is my depression. On the one hand, when I take photos, I am very expressive, and that is something I am proud of, but on the other hand...It makes me very vulnerable. In the fashion world, it something I know I will be bombarded with, time and time again. I remember the first time I was in a modeling show, as a child...they put my pretty sister front and center, and put the smart sister and stupid sister on the sides...I of course was the one that felt like the stupid sister, ...as I grew up, I started really truly having that made a part of who I was. I wanted to crumble. I went out on the stage, and gave it my all, and everyone including my mother laughed histerically. As I got older, my mom made it abundantly clear, that I was not good enough, she put a stair stepper in my bedroom, so I could exercise in private, she signed me up for literally every gym in town. she told me once when I was 15, that  If I "lost a little bit of weight, I could be as pretty as my sister, Elizabeth, and if I studied harder, I could be as smart as my sister Kristin. " i would cry frequently, have outbursts of anger, and pray that I would die in my sleep or in an uncontrollable freak accident. i would write poetry, and keep to myself...watching this show has shown me there is hope for the hopeless...and that no one needs to be conditioned to hate themselves, and the flaws that we all have. I once had an opportunity to get plastic surgery on my scar, on my wrist, because I was worried people would think it was an attenpted Suicide scar...Its not....its scars from my brain surgery. During my brain surgery, the doctors slit my wrist and put tubes of blood there, so I would not die on the operating table, and that is beautiful...my step dad had to take the stitches out, because I couldnt get to my brain surgeons office quick enough to have them removed. I also have a scar on my head, for the same reason....I hide them, but I dont know how to to magnify their beauty to show dignity, respect and truth...Growing up, I was called Brainless, Retard and WHacko....by the closest people in my life...I want to earn the respect of the world, and show the world...I am worthy of being considered beautiful, in spite of my scars!

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