“You Will Be Okay” by Isabelle Aguirre
The same question, no matter what, used to consume my entire being: Will I ever feel good enough? I tried my entire life to make myself feel good enough, whether this is earning straight A’s or getting elected class president. From the bottom of my aching heart, I hoped that the happiness I felt with these victories would amount to how I felt when I looked in the mirror. Unfortunately, they were all temporary. I thought praise from my family, friends, or teachers would help end the cycle of disgust I felt when I opened my phone camera and saw my reflection. Every day it is the same thoughts: Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not nice enough. Not happy enough. Not fun enough. Not good enough. Endless things I felt that I would never imagine amounting to. I yearned to be the person at the end of a coming-of-age movie who stuck their head out the window and the wind perfectly brushed their hair out of their face, and at the end they finally felt ok. I was also anxious that my feelings of inadequacy were visible to others. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I bit the inside of my lips till they bled whenever I was anxious—sometimes I did not even realize I was doing it. This was not the most successful coping skill because it only took trips to the dentist for people to question what happened to my lips. The answer was: anxiety with a side of self-hatred.
Did I ever tell my dentist it was “anxiety with a side of self-hatred?” Of course not. I kept quiet, which was pretty normal at the time, because I never told anyone how I was really feeling. I felt way too much. I was so worried that my feelings would be invalidated because I’m “too sensitive” and “too weak.” But I think that was the main problem—I was always so worried. Worried that if I highlighted something blue instead of green, my teacher will think I’m a bad student who doesn’t pay attention. Worried that if I didn’t study an extra hour for my math test, I would fail. Worried that if I made any mistake, everyone would view me as a “bad” person. I had racing thoughts that would never stop. I had constant bodily sweats and a fear that everything was going to come apart in the blink of an eye. This may sound “ridiculous” to some people, but it really isn’t. Some people, like me, feel this anxious every day, all the time, about everything. So if it's a “ridiculous” feeling to you, imagine having to live that way—anxiety consuming every second of every day. It’s not ridiculous, it's exhausting.
It didn’t take long until my train of thought, habits, and the biting of my lip caught the attention of my family. My family grew worried about me, which worried me. Whether it was my mom catching up on my thousands of to-do lists or my countless “just in case” alarm clocks. My sisters would remind me daily how “amazing” I am, which at the time, felt false. My parents would offer me more support, life lessons, and love than you could ever imagine. Now, I couldn’t thank my family enough for being the reason I am who I am today, but at the time, I felt ever more alone. I felt like a burden and like a wreck to my family. So, it wasn’t easy—I would shut off or isolate myself from anything that involved feeling. However, it was soon enough, I realized I was only hurting myself more by refusing to open up. Whether I would stay up late staring at my ceiling with negative thoughts that would never shut up, to days where I would bite my lip the entire day. I would wake up anxious about simply living. Biting my lip over simply existing. Fidgeting over simply breathing. When I realized that I couldn’t continue to live my life surrounded by unhealthy coping mechanisms and irrational worries, I progressively began opening myself up to not only my loved ones but to myself. I became more honest with myself that eventually made it easier to be more honest with others. I began practicing positive thinking, and my dad helped me practice thinking exercises to prevent a spiral of “what if” anxiety-based thoughts. From my sister's support with self-perception to my mom’s advice, and of course, normal setbacks, I progressively learned to identify when I was spiraling. Naturally, my negative thinking and anxiety try to creep back into my life, causing me to still have rougher days, but I am equipped with something now that I didn’t have before—self-love. I continue to love myself on days when I can’t control my spirals, because I give myself grace for simply being human. Growing doesn't mean being perfect and never being anxious or negative, it’s learning how to navigate through life despite it and loving yourself regardless. When I started this essay, I admit, I was biting my lip, but now, as I finish this essay, my lips are no longer being bit. Anxiety is still a part of me, because I’m human, but it doesn’t control me anymore, and even on the days when it manages to control me, I still deserve love. My final words are, if you know someone, or are someone who is on the journey to “getting better” you are on for quite a sad, but also, very happy road. It will inevitably be filled with many sad moments, but also even more happy moments. Reminder, it is so worth it. Please remember—you are SO beautiful, SO loved, and SO strong. I’ve been in your shoes—sometimes I still fit in the shoes, and it feels hopeless, but I promise you from the bottom of my heart, it gets better. You are never alone; anxiety and your negative thoughts will never define you (and they never have defined you). I believe in you and I love you. You will be okay.