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So, what do you hate yourself for?

Jill asked this question on Alas, and I’m ganking it and pretending that it’s an actual post by me:

Moving away from the highly predictable “Fat is unhealthy! Let me come in here and explain how unhealthy it is because you have probably never, ever heard this before! I’m doing you a favor!” conversation, I think a similar analysis can be applied to reproductive rights — that is, for many feminists, having a feminist ideology can make you feel like you have a greater obligation to make the “right” choices and not screw up.

I’ve never been unintentionally pregnant, but some of my feminist friends have. And the reaction I see most isn’t guilt over abortion or inability to decide what to do, but feelings of foolishness and stupidity. These same women would never judge anyone else for getting unintentionally pregnant. They understand that birth control fails, that things happen, that we’re human. But when they get accidentally pregnant, they feel like they should have known better because they’re feminists and they have all the tools to know better. That’s what they beat themselves up over.

As I said, I’ve never been pregnant. But if I were to have an unintended pregnancy, I imagine I’d be thinking along the same lines: How did this happen to me, when I “know better” because of my feminist and reproductive rights work? How could I be so stupid?

I see a parallel there to the body image conversation, and the individual frustrations that feminists face when they have body issues. It’s not a perfect comparison, but perhaps one worth discussing. Thoughts?

Honestly, I get the sense that this is something that can be applied to the way women are taught to think about themselves and their choices, period–no matter how normal their decisions or how unappealing their options. Motherhood–including the decision not to become a mother–is one of the handiest examples only because women are so frequently defined, one way or another, as babymakers and baby raisers. And the choices they have are often defined as free when they usually aren’t. Early moms vs. late moms. Stay at home moms vs. working moms. Daycare moms vs. homeschool moms. Too many children. Too few children. Children with the wrong partner or no partner or too many partners. As though these decisions were no more difficult or forced than picking out a bathing suit that most flatters your figure, and as though most people can just walk away from a paycheck or repair a loveless marriage or pull money out of thin air. Should you quit your job? Should you look for a restrained floral print or a dark solid?

The effort required and the potential consequences for the chooser are represented as trivial, so much so that she should be ashamed of even worrying about her own comfort and eventual happiness. Any ambivalence on the part of the chooser is chalked up to a lack of committment. At the same time, the potential consequences for the rest of the world–spouse, economy, national security, little babies both immediate and distant–are presented as cataclysmic.

Bodily changes are treated the same way. Your pain is minor. Your effort is meaningless. The idea that anyone else should be required to look at your fat ass or scarred thighs or verdant treasure trail, however, is disgusting. And as with life choices, it’s the woman’s fault that she managed to end up with a mustache or stretch marks or arm fat. They’re not inevitable, they’re something she should have been able to predict and fight. You know what your mother looks like! Why weren’t you prepared?


48 thoughts on So, what do you hate yourself for?

  1. It seems to me that you are raising two very different points and trying to tie them together.

    The stuff later in the post, about getting a moustache or strectch marks, or any of those other sorts of “you don’t fit the unrealistic ideal” — and to a degree, the stuff with the pressure to feel guilty about not being able to effortlessly juggle work, social life, raising healthy kids, maintaining a great relationship and getting plenty of quality gym time — absolutely. Great topic. Go for it. Societal pressure on shit like that has gotten ridiculous.

    But other things, in the case you posted, an unintentional pregnancy, but by extension, things like having a heart attack or a bad car accident, or a toxic relationship that ended in a bitter divorce – they aren’ the same sort of thing. Yes, there is at least as much societal pressure about those, and that needs to be addressed.

    But we all face situations that we thought we would or could avoid, we thought we were planning adequately or didn’t need to plan for. Things that actually are big deals. That actually do have consequences, even if the consequence is paying for a car repair deductible.

    The fact that decent, thinking people don’t condemn others, or even don’t judge others is not because we think some of those things aren’t big deals, but because we understand that what is important is supporting our friends, and that we never can get inside another person’s head, and that kicking someone when they are down never helps anyway.

    But that isn’t the same as pretending it isn’t serious. Of course, each person gets to judge the seriousness of their events for themselves.

    With the pregnancy issue, I hope that there isn’t pressure in the other direction – pressure to think and act that the decision about whether to continue the pregnancy or abort is supposed to be a casual decision, lightly tossed off.

    For some it may be, and that could be for any number of reasons. But for others, even among those who most strongly believe that it is a free choice, it will still be a difficult one.

    I think, Piny, that is the point of your posting this. These big decisions AREN”T like picking a bathing suit, or what to defrost for dinner.

  2. I don’t have any guilt over my abortion. Not that I was expecting moral guilt, but I don’t have any feminist guilt about it either. Before my abortion (and understand I was just a teenager, so my thinking was a tad immature) I was pro-choice but “I would never do that.” Sure. Right. What, did I think I was somehow immune to unwanted pregnancy?

    I did what I could to prevent pregnancy. Hormonal BC messes with my brain, but we used a condom (which broke) and I took EC. And it didn’t work, and I did the next best thing.

    Smart women have unwanted pregnancies. There are lots of circumstances that cause them, and there’s no reason to feel morally inferior, feminist-wise or otherwise, for making the right choice for yourself.

    I’m not trying to criticize women who do feel feminist guilt about it; I guess I’m just trying to argue that they lay off themselves, which is also what you’re doing in the post. I’m just doing it from the perspective of a woman who had to make that choice, and who grew in compassion from the process and learned to be less judgemental towards other women.

  3. Hit the nail on the head!

    Women are never so angry at anyone as they are at themselves. (Which is why I laugh when I’m accused of hating men: they don’t get an ounce of the stuff reserved for myself.)

  4. part of the problem, as I see it, is that even when women can recognize bullshit and see through it, a few years of feminism is not enough to root out all the internalized bullshit. I *know* that birth control fails, but I still find myself wanting to know all the details of an unintended pregnancy so I can reassure myself that it won’t happen to me b/c I know better. hell, even Andrea Dworkin asked herself whether she was dressed provocatively when she was raped.

    I hate myself whenever someone manipulates me, and I know they are manipulating me, and I let it happen. my most recent self-hating was when I foolishly (see that word? foolish!) wore something that left a few inches of skin showing at the waist to go dancing and got groped by my partners all night. I can recognize non-verbal boundary violations as well as the next feminist, but why am I not assertive enough to ask them to lead from the shoulder? that was 2 weeks ago, and I’m still mad. I Blame the Patriarchy.

  5. I think you have nailed one of the biggest hidden reasons the Right hates us so much — we advocate making decisions. As my grandmother used to say, “the only way never to be wrong is never to make a decision in the first place.” The Right believes in one single and unalterable script for life, which saves those who buy into it the need to actually analyze anything and make a concious choice about it. We, in contrast, require people to make up their own minds, which means they may very well make the wrong choice. We believe in a safety net so that very few mistakes — those involving indictments, for example — actually ruin one’s own or one’s loved ones lives. Since the Right is pretty much all about punishment, they are that much more afraid of making a mistake. Thus, reduce the chances of making a decision at all.

    That having been said, I’m sure I’ve spent plenty of time kicking myself for being an idiot. I owe too much to credit cards, waste too much, haven’t gone as far professionally as I should; those are just three of the endless-loop of self-attacks that play in my head all day sometimes. I think this is just human; we don’t like being wrong. Believing in the right to make one’s own mistakes doesn’t mean that actually screwing up is any less painful.

  6. I agree with ink- “spot on”. This morning, yesterday, the day before… I was hating myself. I was starting to worry that I may be pregnant. Not to give everyone too much information, but today that concern was alleviated. I’m on the pill, but I’ve been sick (as in throwing up a lot lately, and I knew that could also mess up the pill) lately. I just kept “hating myself”, as I thought, “I’m a feminist in the midst of grad school. I know better. How could this happen?!” Not too mention I just turned thirty. And, funny; my boyfriend knew just what I was getting all antsy about. As pro-choice as he is; he seemed to understand that NOTHING was going to be an easy choice for this feminist, and that I was relieved to see that I wasn’t going to have to make any choices that I didn’t feel prepared for. I think there is a lot of pressure to “know” where one stands on issues all of the time, if you’re a feminist. I usually say, “well, I don’t know, until I’m in that situation”. You see, I also hate that NOTHING was going to be an easy decision. I feel the pressure to see an easy answer in these sorts of situations. If any of this makes sense- I have to go to work.

  7. foresmac, oh what a cord you’ve plucked!!

    I have no enamel so my teeth literally fell apart and it was so damn humiliating because it’s the first thing people see when you meet them. I got every one of my teeth root-canalled (sp?) and crowned at a university dental school so the process took over two years and was excruciatingly painful. I swear I will STILL be paying it off for the rest of my life even though it was the cheapest route. People that have bad teeth and who don’t have bottomless pockets are just screwed…

  8. I hate my laziness, and all the problems I cause myself by not pushing myself a little harder when it would really help. I also hate that I can summon so much guilt and anger over this easier than I can acually fix it.

    I hate that my first inpulse in dealing with problems in my life is always a spoiled-child one, wanting to whine and demand that someone else fix it for me. This is really a bit unreasonable, since I’m actually good at keeping these impulses in check, so I wind up mad at myself for having a whiny thought even when it doesn’t do any harm.

    I hate that I take things so personally, that I make so many things about me which aren’t, and that I don’t have enough sense of proportion. I hate my tendency to create imaginary melodrama, and how much I dwell on little things that aren’t worth the fuss. I hate that I’m terrible at responding to letters.

    And I don’t hate myself for this, but I do feel somewhat guilty that listing what’s so great about me just sounds like a chore, but a chance to share how much I hate my own flaws is almost irresistably appealing. It’s one of the things that all the girls got in school where I was to boost self-esteem. Saying good things about yourself is supposed to make you feel good about yourself, and saying bad things about yourself is supposed to cause low self-esteem. I know it doesn’t work like that for me; listing what I like or dislike about myself diminishes it, reduces it words, makes it have less power for me, so I’m better off naming the bad qualities when they get to me, and just experiencing the good ones. But I still feel guilty about doing this, especially in front of feminists (we were always taught it was feminist to boost our self-esteem in the assigned ways).

  9. Shorter version:

    1) Nothing you do is ever going to make any difference: if you are a size 8, you could be a size 6, if only you dedicated your life to achieving your goal; if you’re a size 6, you could be (and should be) a size 4 (people respect Nancy Reagan, don’t they?); if a size 4, a size 2; if a size 2, a size 1; if a size 1, a size 0; and if a size 0, a size 00. Sure you’re free to choose your course, but there’s only one path a self-respecting individual would take; after all, what’s right’s right, right? Don’t you care about what’s right? Why can’t women appreciate ethics in the abstract? And what’s up with those saddlebags, anyway?

    2) But what you do has to make a difference, because as long as you live in a body at all, as long as you haven’t adopted the virtuous course of dwindling away into absolute nothingness, the fact that you continue to exist and that you continue, what’s more, to ask for stuff is screwing up the quality of life for everybody else. A decent person would do something about that (even though there’s a contradiction which comes in insofaras she’d have to continue to exist in order to do the doing). But never mind that, what’s right is still right, and you never expected life to be easy, did you? Why do women demand these pat solutions? Why do women always complain?

    (Apply the two above-cited contradictory requirements to every issue involving women, starting with their weight and ending with their souls, if they have any. Never relent. Heat and serve. And BTW, if you are a woman, we can guarantee you’ll have an extra fun time playing this game in opposition to other women, because you’ll know the exact nature of the demands and you’ll know just how far to tighten the screws.)

    Of course, none of us is bright enough to think our way out of this double-bind, because (again of course) there is no way out of this double-bind: it was designed to be inescapable. And Lord, is it ever inescapable. Yet it’s helpful, IMO, to be aware that it’s not so much the deal that one has personally failed to meet expectations as that those expectations were never intended to be met. A living woman cannot measure up (or measure down) to them. Mrs. Schiavo came pretty close (she sacrificed her brain for bulimia; how’s that for stellar priorities?) which is why she was so popular with certain segments of our society. JMO, of course.

  10. And as for the unplanned pregancy…

    I got pregnant in about the fourth month in a relationship with a man I’d know for about 3 years. I battled back and forth about an abortion and decided to go through with having the baby. I had an extremely traumatic and painful miscarriage at my eleventh week. I blame myself for not having the abortion at four weeks.

  11. I hate that I have to take medication to keep my emotions/moods in check. I feel that I’m not strong enough to just deal with bullshit that comes up in my life and it makes me feel terribly guilty. So i put off going to go pick up my medication, which ends up making everything worse (more erratic moods and sudden emotional outbursts and of course more guilt!)…but yet I still don’t go and pick up my prescription.

  12. I’ve never commented before but…

    I hate myself for hating my boyfriend because he makes more money for doing so much less than I do. Then I hate myself for being a librarian because of course I’m always going to make so much less. Then I remember how much I love my job and I end up hating myself for being pissed off about it in the first place. I hate my insanely swelled ego and I hate always seeming to be wrong.

    I hate wearing a size 14, but I hate the thought of losing weight and losing my perfect breasts that even turn me on. I hate that I look so amazing naked but I look like a cow in clothing. I hate my promiscuous past and how high I’ve let my “number” get but I hate thinking I would’ve ever missed out on any of it.

    After reading all that in the preview box I guess also I hate to admit that I don’t have it that bad…

  13. Sure you’re free to choose your course, but there’s only one path a self-respecting individual would take; after all, what’s right’s right, right?

    Which is why when they said, “You can be whatever you want to be,” I heard, “And it better be the damned hardest thing you can think of or else you’ll have been a waste.”

    I hate that I don’t love myself like I should. You should try it. It’s hilarious.

  14. I hate my bad skin. Sure, it’s trivial, but people with even one zit are never shown on TV or in the movies, unless they’re freaking out about how disgusting they are.

  15. I hate that I’ve had terrible, treatment-resisting, scarring acne since I was eleven, and I hate that it’s still okay to mock people with acne and pock-marked faces, even in the feminist community, where we’re all supposed to be open and accepting of women, no matter what they look like.

  16. Of course they aren’t, Anna, Then they would almost appear human!! I’ve actually noticed that even people in acne commercials never actually have acne. But I have it on good authority (US Weekly!!!!) That Cameron Diaz and Renee Zell-whatever both have acne and rosacea.

    Regardless, I have really bad rosacea and in the summer I look like WC Fields, so you aren’t the only one feeling bad.

  17. I, like many women, have hormonally triggered acne. So the cycle goes, week before period the acne starts- face and breasts- until the period starts. The acne heals up and then it all starts again. You are not alone. I got tired of covering it up with substances that made it worse, so people get me as I am.

  18. Hell yes, Em, Hell yes.
    I’ve often said that the two most destructive things said to me, as a kid, together, were “It’s okay so long as you do your best,” and “You can do anything if you try.”
    It ended up coming off as a threat. It came off as “you had better be a polymath genius, an accomplished athlete, and learn to levitate, because that’s technically possible for a human, too.” Everything I have pushed for that isn’t up to snuff for goals is never good enough.

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  20. LL,

    I know. And in a perfect world, a kid could understand that those messages were truly meant to be encouraging. But in the context of everything else we’re absorbing from the world during that time, it really does come across as a threat.

  21. I hate myself for every time I’ve missed out on an opportunity – academically, socially, career-wise – because I was too afraid.

  22. I hate myself for caring about my weight. And if anybody thinks that I care about my weight primarily for “health-related reasons,” you’re wrong. I’m an excellent example of what Maia was getting at in the Alas thread. I hate that I’m not as thin as I think I should be (even though I’m not heavy), and I hate myself for hating that, because I should know better.

  23. Which is why when they said, “You can be whatever you want to be,” I heard, “And it better be the damned hardest thing you can think of or else you’ll have been a waste.”

    A professor of mine had a name for that. He called it “Mendelsson Syndrome.” (I think it was mendelsson). The premise was that Mendelsson was a great composer who got almost no recognition in his own lifetime because he was around during the same time as Beethoven. My prof’s point was that people beat themselves up so much over not being Beethoven, even though there was only one Beethoven, ever, and that being Mendelsson (or being just great, but not the best ever) didn’t make your life or your work any less worthwhile in the long run.

    Adding to the hate-fest: I hate how I can always stand up for someone else, but I have so much trouble being assertive when someone with authority is bullying me personally.

  24. That was whole premise of Amadeus, except with Salazari and Mozart instead. I’ll have to chew on that for a while now, thanks Queen Frostine (love the username, btw!)

  25. I know that “feminist guilt” well. I was aware of a lot of simpler feminist ideals, “Go to college!” “Use birth control!” “Don’t submit to the feminine stereotype!” on and on…

    Teen pregnancy: feminist guilt — You should know better!
    Feminine guilt – What kind of woman are you? You going to abort you whore?
    Mother guilt – What kind of mother are you? You going to just up and leave their father and make your children grow up in a broken home?
    Woman/savior guilt – What kind of woman are you? You going to just give up on this man who has sacrificed so much for you? What about your sacrifice for the marriage? For the family?

    I was young, very young and grew up a pretty liberal household and had accepted at a very young age that I’d go to college and have a professional career. So don’t anyone tell me that women, especially young and insecure ones like I was, don’t pick up on the subtle mysoginy out there. Or that there aren’t those out there enjoying the perks of such.

  26. Lots of stuff, unfortunately. I hate myself for being a bad housekeeper and definately for the fact that I struggle to balance kids, marriage, housekeeping and a full time job even with my husband doing at least half of the housework. I definately struggle with the fact that I hate how I look and get so self-conscious eating in front of people that are skinnier than I am, even though I know I shouldn’t. I know when I got pregnant at an unplanned time, I felt stupid and foolish because I thought I should know better, even though know I can acknowledge that a lack of education was a huge factor. When I miscarried the aforementioned pregnancy, I felt guilty as hell because I really didn’t want the baby and I was convinced I had caused it. Sigh. Looking over this list just makes me realize how thoroughly I’ve internalized the patriarchy and it’s bullshit claims and that’s depressing.

  27. Yes, the mandate that women must suffer to be woman runs deep. That is the premise of the religious right; that women are wicked and thus were mandated by God to suffer for eternity. We are the cast out, the punished, the eternally damned.

    From that premise, the Pro-Life movement and all other anti-feminism springs.

  28. I hate that it took me until I was 23 or 24 to break out of the mindset exemplified by my mother: that women need men and that their self-worth is determined by men liking them.

    Sad, isn’t it?

  29. I hate that it took me until age 32 to not be ashamed of the birthmark on my forehead and pick a hairstyle that didn’t cover it up.

    I think this kind of exercise could be very good if done right – not downgrading yourself, but picking something that tells about yourself and how far you’ve come (or are working towards).

  30. Hmm, I hate the fact that I am not superhuman and need sleep at some point. I work fulltime, study parttime, do martial arts several times a week, weight train several times a week, read entirely too many books a week and yet it never feels like I am doing ENOUGH- I could train harder and more often! I could get a better job! I could do a couple of courses instead of just one at a time! Why am I so WEAK and LAZY?

    And the ever expanding list of things I want to do-go out dancing; drink coffee with my friends; watch silly anime; make my own clothes; play with poi- but never get to do as often as I would like? Sources of enormous guilt and self-hatred.

    This doesn’t even touch on the ‘why are I wasting my potential, you are SO VERY BRIGHT and owe it to your family to do So Much More’ guilt. After that, I have no self hatred or guilt left over for the abortion I had- that was one of the easiest decisions I have ever made in my life.

  31. I hate that I have slacked off all reading period and have left myself five days to prepare for three finals than are harder than they should be because I slacked off all last semester, too.

    There are other things, but that’s really the main one in my head right now.

  32. I hate that I have this constant negative voice in my head that says, “YOU WILL NEVER HAVE A BOYFRIEND.” Even worse, I often don’t question this mode of thinking. I’m 20, I’ve been kissed exactly once, and I’m still a virgin, and in a college environment that seems to center around drunken hook-ups, it feels insane at times. Deep down, I know that I’m a late-bloomer by nature, and that the guys I’ve been around in the past have never been stellar, but I still loathe that voice in my head that says things like, “You need to be less intimidating. You need to show some skin in order to get a man. Your looks are not your strong point, no sirrree!” (Of course, all three statements listed above are based on the assumption that all guys in my age range are neanderthals, which is untrue.)

    I know that I have many excellent qualities, and that I shouldn’t rush out to a frat party wearing a tube top and a miniskirt to try to get anyone with a penis to notice me. I also realize that I should try to counteract these thoughts more often, but after a lifetime of hearing similar sentiments from people besides myself (especially my peers), old habits are difficult to break.

  33. Speaking of “plucking cords”, annaham, you’re not alone 😉 I’m not in the exact same situation, but I can relate.

  34. I hate that I don’t love myself like I should. You should try it. It’s hilarious.

    I’ve had some experience with that. It’s bizarrely funny trying to put words on the logic behind it, but for me, self-esteem too often came out to be one more thing where if I had problems it was one more thing I was screwing up because I wasn’t doing what I should. And all that stuff about the connection between low self-esteem and various life problems didn’t help.

    What worked best for me was stop banging my head against the wall, and figuring out that if I could keep my life in decent condition, my emotional well-being took care of itself (defintiely not true for everyone). Mostly if I started getting down on myself, I made myself stop thinking about the big things, and either deal with what could be dealt with, or find a distraction. It’s worked fairly well for me so far, but this kind of thing is really individual, so I don’t know if it would be helpful for you or anyone else.

  35. I’m kinda-sorta doing that already. I have underlying issues from past abuse, so in therapy-world I work on learning to believe that I deserve to like myself, and in real-world I try to keep things simple and grounded, like you suggest. In combo-world, I try to make the connection between aware living and telling myself that I’m alright, and look at how well I’m managing. It’s going slowly, but its going.

  36. Convoluted self-loathing? You asked the right lurker. I’m nearly 40 and I’ve never managed to do that ideal woman thing where you meet everyone else’s needs while grinding your own (painfully but quietly, of course) under your sexily shod foot while smiling.

    I tried for a long time, at great physical and emotional cost. In my mid-twenties I decided that if I’m not happy, no one around me will be either, so I’d best do what I want/need to do for the good of everyone. Which is the definition of selfish — especially once a gal has kids — and which leads me to quote Ben Folds: “I feel guilty for not giving a shit.” Ain’t no way to win, because women are always supposed to live by someone else’s standards.

  37. I’m a perv, and a guy.
    I really do support feminist ideals in real life.

    But in fantasy…I’m a horrible person

    🙁

  38. Anon – Fantasy doesn’t hurt anyone. As long as you really are supportive in real life, go nuts without guilt.

    As for me, I still haven’t gotten over hating myself, which I think started in elementary school, around 4th grade. I’m a size six – I should be a size 4, or 2. I go to law school on a full scholarship…but i’m not getting As. I have a nice fulltime job that brings in good money…but it’s not prestigious enough. Take the combination of the prior two items…I still am totally convinced that i’m a lazy procrastinating loser. I held my dad’s hand while he died of cancer last month, and see my mom twice a week…but i’m a bad daughter. Honestly, the one way I DON’T feel like i’m a total failure is my marriage, which is awesome.

    And now i’m worried that that entire comment looks like it’s bragging. It’s not. I really, truly don’t think i’m good enough. This sucks.

  39. Shauna, you reminded me of what hate most about myself. That I didn’t face reality and deal with myself as I am from teenhood on. Listening to that little inner voice from the beginning would have saved alot of time. I tried to do things that weren’t exactly right for me, tried to be like other people instead of trusting that little inner voice. The first example that comes to mind is seeing a cool piece of clothing in a magazine and thinking it’s right for me when it looks good ON THAT PERSON but not me. Or a purse that looks fab on THAT PERSON but isn’t right for me.

  40. I hate that I always feel like a fraud.

    I went through college and got a degree, but I always feel like I bluffed or fooled my way through, so my degree is meaningless.
    I ended the best relationship I’ve ever had because I was constantly afraid that the girl in question would “see through me” and realize that I wasn’t the person she thought I was.
    When people tell me that I’m smart for something, the first thing that pops into my head is “Not really. Sometimes I’m clever, and that’s not the same thing.”

    I guess that’s really mostly related to another thing I hate about myself- I have a serious lack of self esteem. Ever since I was in grade school, my self esteem has taken a beating.

  41. Ooh, I’ll play. I’ll give you the super-abridged version.

    I hate that I wear makeup, even though my husband wishes I wouldn’t. I even agree that I look better without, but I’m too scared to go outside without it. And I hate that my feminism is so weak. I hate that I gave years and years of my life to a fella who couldn’t ever love me back, and yet…I hate that I eventually let him go. I hate that my marriage is still haunted by this from time to time.

    Like Roy mentioned, I fumbled my way through college, and feel like a poseur with my degree, and worry that someone at my job will suddenly realize I’m a damned moron. I hate myself for not “living up to my potential” the way my classmates did. I hate myself for wanting to be like them, because I know they suck.

    And that’s just the cream off the top. God, it sucks.

  42. Late to the party, but what the hell…

    I hate that I’m not good enough. I hate that I feel guilty for not wanting to spend every waking moment with my husband and children. I hate that I feel guilty for wanting to just be left alone sometimes and that I’m just not a cuddly person. I hate that I have a degree in what’s considered a pretty hard field but that it’s also a fairly useless as far as employment goes (or at least any kind of employment that I want to have). I have that I have a sweet tooth and don’t worry about my weight the way that I should. I also hate that it bothers me that I enjoy food and I feel guilty if I put on a pound or two. I hate that I’m a horrible housekeeper and that my house is always a bit cluttered, even though the husband does a fair share of the housework and we both work full time. I hate that I always feel like I’m not doing enough, even though I usually am, and I hate that all this bothers me when it absolutely shouldn’t. And I especially hate that the insecure girl inside me has never left, even though I can put up a good front and people generally can’t see that.

  43. loving the hate party. here we go (there’s a lot of it):

    i hate how i am fat, and always will be. i’m not one of these “well, i *could* be a size 6 if i wanted!” types. i was a 10 at my thinnest (age 15) and 10 years later i’m a 16. i will never ever be right. i have the biggest butt in creation, and nothing ever makes it smaller. i hate that i inherited hypothyroidism, so even now, when i want to be fitter, i know that it will be ten times harder for me to get trim and stay that way than everyone who doesn’t have my condition.
    i hate that i have acne, the defies treatment (i’ve done everything).
    i hate that i hate my body. i should *know better*. i’m a feminist, i’ve been on my own forever, i know how to pleasure myself.
    sometimes i hate that i really love this body, that the extra flesh somehow makes me feel sexier.
    i hate my hair. i hate how having curly blond-ish hair makes everyone think i am a doll. thus i cut it completely off and dye it black.

    i hate that i let him rape me, 3 years ago. that i didn’t fight hard enough, and i could have taken him down too. but i froze, like i did when i was 17 and the same thing happened with a different boyfriend….

    i hate sometimes how i am so completely hetero. i like men. i want to live with my boyfriend for the rest of my life. i hate how this makes other people look at me like i’m heteronormative, even though i don’t really feel like it. i hate how queer is trendy, some days, that queer is more feminist than liking to be partnered to one man, faithful until it falls apart.

    *phew* i feel better. like therapy only more anonymous.

  44. Ah, the perfect game for a lurker.

    I hate that I can never trust my abilities, even though people have said X number of times that I’m good with Y, I still can’t believe it but rather assume they just don’t know what they’re talking about.

    I hate that I am so afraid of not being good enough, not measuring up, that I end up sabotaging myself and not really even trying.
    I hate that I can’t get myself to do things for the abovementioned reason and feel like a complete failure and waste of everybody’s time (including mine).
    I hate myself for not doing a better job with uni, the one place I’ve really felt I belonged. I feel guilty for making it so difficult for myself and resent myself for not living up to “my potential”.

    I hate thinking of “my potential”, because it feels like such a horrible responsibility. This is not made any easier by it being something completely intangible, undefined and very uncertain.

    This all follows a theme, as I’m sure is obvious. I hate myself for NOT doing, NOT being. I don’t really hate myself for being or doing things I shouldn’t be or do, those I can deal with. It’s the nots that get to me.

    And I hate it when I start thinking that if I haven’t hooked up with a man for a long time it must be because there’s something inherently wrong with me.

  45. I hate that I’m not good enough.

    Forget the petty stuff, looks, status, intelligence, how accomplished I can seem. Forget it all. People are dying. A child dies of sheer poverty every three seconds. And I’m not good enough to help.

    It’s easy to do a million little things to make things worse. It’s easy to buy sweatshop clothes from Walmart wrapped in layers of plastic. There’s a million easy ways to increase poverty, pollute the earth, and undermine human rights without even noticing. And I’m not good enough to completely stop.

    I try to help. I went and I found people who needed help. Poor, abused, exploited children. But there wasn’t much I could do, and I didn’t try as hard as I could have. I never try as hard as I could. Also, I made mistakes. Some kids were definitely worse off because I couldn’t get things right. I hate that I screwed up when people needed me. I hate that I didn’t do as much as I could because it was hard. I hate that I can still feel sorry for myself because it was hard when I knew girls who were kept staked out in the yard like dogs, and they weren’t the worst off.

    I hate that I’m not throwing myself harder into school, not because of the petty stuff, but because I want to do human rights work, and the better I do on the degree, the better my chances. I hate that I’m using school as an excuse to barely lift a finger for the community where I live. I do a bit, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

    I hate that I don’t know how to save Darfur. I hate myself because I’ve stopped trying.

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