u/turtlesarecute7

Mentions: Sexual Assault and Racism.

I posted this in a 'feminism' subreddit, but it's not that inclusive, so I think it fits better here.

I learned that in society, it hates when a woman isn't beautiful, and that doubles when you're a BIPOC. It's as if BIPOC are expected to be exceptional, but increase it by 10, and we've got to look the part while doing everything. As for Black women specifically, we're constantly judged, tone policed, silenced, masculinized, dealing with misogynoir, etc. I hate this.

As a little girl, I always wanted to be beautiful, and I tried HARD to fit in. Yet no matter how hard I tried, I still got bullied, people called me "ugly", dehumanized me, and I wasn't able to enjoy girlhood. Hell, people didn't even believe I was >!sexually assaulted!< because they thought I was "too ugly" and a liar. So much for coming forward, I guess.

Then, I became an adult, and soon I came to realize that navigating the world as a Black woman, with a face that wouldn't be seen as beautiful no matter what room she stepped in hurt more than any insult ever had.

That Pinterest-esque idea of womanhood? Unattainable. I've never seen a face like mine be represented in spaces for Black women, but I'm still expected to buy into the idea of beauty because, according to society, my insecurities make me the perfect candidate!

"Don't like that nose? We can change it for $25k, but we'll be sure it still looks ethnic and feminine!"

The void that is the internet makes things worse. All the comparisons, beauty ideals, looksmaxxing crap, pink pill (lmao, the Sprinkle Lady) dating advice, and grifters feeding off of women's insecurities. People online are starting to give backhanded compliments, saying, "I'll never understand why racism exists," when someone conventionally beautiful (who happens to be a BIPOC) makes a social media post. Apparently, to some folks, you've got to be unattractive in order for racism to make sense. 🫩

It's exhausting, but I still want to buy in cause all the beautiful women are.

All I want is to be beautiful so I can feel safe, be accepted by my peers, and look at myself without crying. Tbh, I didn't admit this for a while, but I want to be socially validated for my looks. I'd love for people to look at me and go, "You're so beautiful, and I can't believe you were treated like that..."

I want to be seen. I want to be affirmed. Yeah, I want to be told, "I wish I looked like you" by other Black women. I WANT to be beautiful in the eyes of the majority.

I know conventional attractiveness won't spare me from all of life's problems. I know that conventionally beautiful Black women have their struggles, too. I'm not trying to invalidate anyone. But all I want is to finally change the one thing in my life that has caused me so much emotional distress. My face.

ETA: Also, it doesn't seem like people treat pain like mine with much empathy anyways. Not surprised by that given how "fixable" my issue is. Whatever.

How can I fix this w/o surgery? I have a masculine face, but I'm not looking to get cosmetic surgery since I know that my bone structure prevents me from looking the way I'd like. Surgery might help a few things, but I'd never look feminine in the face.

Trigger Warning: Emotional Distress + >!Suicide Attempt.!<

I'll be 22 next month, and I've come to realize that I haven't been happy for a long time. My 20s have especially been harder because I'm unpacking a lot of trauma from my past. Mostly childhood trauma. I also survived a >!suicide attempt!< in early November of last year, but sometimes I wish I hadn't.

I'm so ugly, and I feel worthless. I'm not trying to cause any harm with what I share, but I'm tired, y'all. I was tired long before I turned 20. I put so much effort into getting better, but I'm always sad. There's this deep pit of sadness inside me 24/7, and the trauma from my past is all too consuming. I know this all sounds dramatic, but I don't know how else to put this.

I try to "fake it till I make it", but I cannot keep that up long enough. I become overstimulated, and my emotional battery runs out. I want to like myself, but I can't because no one likes me.

I'm weak, I care how people perceive me, and I'm not even pretty enough to leave the damn house. I've been wasting away. I never got to enjoy my childhood fully, and realizing this now hurts like hell because I didn't deserve that. I thought that things would get better in my 20s, but they haven't at all.

I'm so tired.

Major Trigger Warning: SA Involving a Minor and Invalidation.

So, I was 11 when I got SA'd by a guy in middle school. I had no idea who he was, but he went to the same school as me and had been in two grades above me. I was staying after school because of a drama club meeting, but it got cancelled, so I had to wait for someone to pick me up.

The guy saw me a few times and kept walking back and forth in my direction. Pacing basically. He eventually stopped, sat beside me, and started talking to me. He was touching me, trying to "flirt", and asking me questions about crushes I had. It was weird, but I talked to him anyway. He started pushing my hair back, but it made me uncomfortable. After that, he claimed that he thought I was "pretty" and that he wanted to kiss me.

He told me it was gonna be fine.

I kept my eyes open the whole time. Obviously, we didn't do anything in that way because we were at school, but it felt awful. It was weird, and I didn't want to do it. I even told him that. I got up so it would stop. I lied and said I'd be back. I stayed in the bathroom for a bit, but he was waiting outside for me to come out. Once I did, he walked with me, and I kept telling him to leave me alone. He wouldn't.

The next day, I told a female friend about it (we were in the same grade), and other people, because I had no idea who this guy was. I was trying to figure out who he was. He never told me his name. People didn't believe me, though.

After that, I told a male friend about this, who was in the same grade as him, and I described the guy. Unfortunately, the guy (who SA'd me) told everyone that I was lying and that I was ugly. Nobody believed I was telling the truth and said that I was "too ugly" for that to happen. People kept saying I was "looking for attention" and that I was a thot.

Thot is basically "slut", but a little different. It was a word people used a lot when I was in middle school.

I had no idea who this dude was. Literally, higher grade levels were separated from the lower levels, so it made no sense that I would've known him. The first middle school I went to was theme-based and strict, so it did a lot to separate the lower grades from the older kids due to a previous SA incident that happened the year prior.

To make matters worse, he had an identical twin brother, so multiple people were getting HIM confused with the other. It was frustrating, and for a while, I had no idea who actually had done those things to me. I didn't know his name, but I knew what he looked like.

Even now, I've never told my mom about it, and I'm not sure if I should. I know that Black women are often not believed because of MANY biases. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" Plus, this involved two minors, and was damn near 10 years ago.

Literally all my life I've been called "ugly" and the worst names. I hate my life. I just want to be pretty so people can care about me or at least listen to my story. Nobody ever cares about the Black woman who isn't seen as attractive. My story always gets sidelined.

So, I've lived in the Deep South all my life. I grew up in GA and was raised here. Kinda close to ATL.

Although I never truly felt like I could be myself anywhere. For context, I'm neurodivergent, and I got diagnosed with ADHD-PI sometime in the 3rd Grade. I was later diagnosed with ASD in 2024. I'm 21 now -- almost 22. I got bullied a lot for being "weird" and "lame" growing up, but that followed me into adulthood.

I mostly keep to myself, but people have always picked on me for something. My facial features, my mannerisms, the way I learn, communicate, etc. It was hard trying to figure myself out when it felt as though no one wanted me around.

I've been called "ugly", bullied by other girls, humiliated by guys, and misgendered. I've never had the experience of pretty privilege or being told that I was "pretty for a Black girl". People just straight up call me ugly or laugh at me. I know I'm not traditionally pretty, but I don't think I deserve to be treated like I'm a nuisance.

I keep wondering if it could be my location, but I'm not sure anymore. Other Black women + girls in ATL get affirmed quite often, and I have old friends from here that have gone viral for being beautiful, so this could be a me thing.

So, I got my period in mid-2015 at 10 going on 11. After I turned 11, I started getting debilitating periods, and they affected my QOL.

If I don't take at least six Ibuprofen twice a day, I'll throw up whatever is in my stomach, and my symptoms get much worse unmediated. I can hardly walk or stand up straight, and exercising makes the pain excruciating. At worst, I'm close to passing out, and at best, I can bring myself to lie down in bed.

I ALWAYS throw up and have awful body aches if I'm not taking some kind of painkillers.

I get hot and cold at the same time, and sometimes I get cold sweats. Heating pads and hot tea never help since I'm usually overheated when the pain kicks in. My periods are heavy during the first three days, but the last two days are typically fine. My periods have never been irregular except when my >!anorexia!< was at its worst. The heavier the period, the more pain I feel.

I've been going through this for 11 years, and nothing is getting better. Everyone I know has told me my symptoms are normal, but it doesn't feel that way. I'm not sure what to do or what is going on with me.

Content Warning: Incident Involving White People + Racial Trauma.

Looking back at this situation 8 years later feels like a bad fever dream. A lot of what I went through at this school was traumatizing as hell, but I want to talk about it. I'm not sure who will read this, but I hope it reaches someone.

So, back in 2018, I was 13, and at this private nonprofit Christian school in GA. In the mornings, we had to fill out a slip before announcements, or we'd receive infractions. Basically, infractions could lead to detentions and suspensions.

My seat partner didn't have a slip, but she kept asking for one, and no teacher was getting to her. This older girl, who was once at the school, hadn't come back, so her seat was empty, but a slip was on her side of the table behind us. I decided to grab it since we all knew she wasn't coming back, and it wasn't stated that students weren't allowed to do this.

If I wasn't supposed to do this, I never would have.

I reached over to get the slip (it was right behind me, so I didn't get up), but one of the teachers grabbed my wrist and started squeezing it. This happened so fast that I had no idea what was going on. She eventually let go of my wrist, but I kept looking down, and then I looked at her a little.
I said to her, "You touched me." I kept repeating myself for a bit cause I was in shock. After that, I told her she shouldn't have done this. I wasn't threatening her. I never yelled either. Yet I got pulled out of the room and received an infraction for disrespectful behavior.

I had no idea why I got it until the principal told me I was being disrespectful, and I wasn't even allowed to defend myself. She told me that the teacher was apparently scared I'd do something. Later, the principal threatened to give me another infraction and put me on suspension if I kept pressing the situation.
It made no sense, though. There were white girls and boys at that school who were literally using racial slurs, a boy in my class who was always disrupting teachers + doing inappropriate stuff, but I got an infraction for being shocked by a teacher putting her hands on me.

The principal eventually let me go so I could make my way to homeroom.

I stood at the door to get permission to come inside. The teacher's parapro (basically an assistant to the teacher) told me that I wasn't allowed to come into the classroom. She told me that I had to sit OUTSIDE the classroom, with my back facing the door, but the door would be open for me to hear everything. I asked the parapro why I had to do this, and she told me I knew why. I didn't.

I wasn't allowed to turn around.
I couldn't even ask a damn question.

After class ended, I noticed all the other teachers were treating me differently that day.

Mind you, I was the only Black girl at that school in a majority white + heavily religious environment. An unambiguous looking Black girl at that, so people were always looking down on me, and calling me ugly.

Also, there were absolutely NO Black staff members while I was there. All the staff were mostly white, but a few (counting on probably both hands) were non-Black with very light skin. The school was quite small, btw, and selective with students, staff, and houseparents.

I know this situation was handled differently because of the obvious, but there were a few Black boys at that school, and I never saw them getting treated like this.

I know people hear what I say, but it always seems like I have to put on a mask because of who they expect me to be.

It doesn't matter how much I've been hurt.
It doesn't matter how often I've gotten dehumanized.
It doesn't matter that I was taught to hate myself.
What matters (to others) is their comfort, and how much I can shrink myself to not add to their pain or discomfort.

Why is my existence so odd?
My story is something best kept quiet because it's not extraordinary, right?
Why am I being held to standards that were set by white supremacists and misogynists?

Is my existence as a woman who just so happens to be outside of a norm (that the majority don't fit) really that embarrassing?

Was my desire to be heard a justification for someone to take my vulnerabilities as a sign to tell me, "Don't do this here"?

Do I matter at all?

My womanhood isn't valid because the bow doesn't fit right on the box.

The bow isn't straight, neat, and pretty.
My trauma is ugly, messy, painful, and sad.

My story doesn't exist to make other people feel bad.
My story is mine, but it's not being shared to cause harm.
I've simply got over a decade's worth of pain that I want to talk about.

But, I am tired of being treated as if my pain is inherently harmful, embarrassing, and less than because I'm not a woman affirmed by society.

Mostly cause I'm not facially pretty, and the fact that people are cruel when you're not conventionally attractive. I often fantasize about humans never having existed, but being living souls instead, and who we are reflecting outwardly. Does that make sense?

I imagine it being similar to the film 'Soul', but different because of the plot. Besides the living souls thing, I also imagine living in a cartoon world, but that sounds childish.

Maybe this is silly, but it's a comforting thought sometimes when I feel at my worst.