Judgment can be a painful thing to experience at any stage of anyone’s life. We hate to think of the ones closest to us thinking any sort of negative way about what and more specifically who we are. That’s the thing about living with borderline personality disorder (BPD) though: nearly all moments of my life I feel there is a constant, scrupulous judgment being thrown towards me by everyone I meet. It is agonizing to constantly meet everyone’s gaze with the presumption that they must already hate me. If I muster the courage to smile and they don’t return it – suddenly I think they think I’m ugly, someone must have told them how “crazy” I am and now I’m being shunned. These thoughts are exhausting and to most people, downright ridiculous, and that makes it all the worse.
The horrific truth, though, is in the end when I am in my most rational mindset, I realize I am the one judging myself more than anyone I see or meet throughout my life. Every day I hate myself and judge myself for being the worst person in the world. No one is more ignorant than me. No one has an uglier soul or uglier thoughts and patterns of self-destruction than I do. No one hurts the ones they love more than I seem to be able to. I see and judge myself consistently and constantly from the time I begin my day to the time I am finally able to close my eyes and sleep.
What I wish this person, this broken little girl within me, understood, is that it’s OK. It’s OK not to be that “pretty, outgoing girl everyone loves and adores” and is friends with. Because quite honestly, I’m not that person. It takes me a little longer to warm up to people and not feel so anxious around them. Sometimes I’ll need more comforting, more loving, and validation from others than most people would probably expect.
What I need this little girl inside me, the one who fears abandonment and the thought of anyone disliking her in the slightest, I need her to understand I’m still beautiful. That even though I may have a variety of flaws that might always be apart of me, I still have a beautiful soul. I feel things more deeply than most, and sometimes seeing the raw, ugly truth about something doesn’t have to be a negative. I can use it and focus it in more constructive, useful areas of my life. She needs to understand that it’s OK not to be perfect, it’s OK to be flawed, it’s OK to be broken.
And at the end of the day, my reality and who I am, is my own reality I must live with. But it doesn’t have to be ugly and painful. It can be passionate, beautiful, and honest.