My Low Esteem
This is how life has an absurd way of making us men; making us feel proud of ourselves. Have you ever tried walking down a street of a town that you have visited and you are insanely unfamiliar of the exact place that you are looking for? May be before you headed down the street and you a looking for a resort that you want to spend your afternoon at, you ask a for directions and got instructed that the best place is 200 yards down the street. You trudge on for a while only to realize that you are lost. You strangely feel as if everybody on the street has eyes on you and seem to believe that you are stupid. Therefore, instead of inquiring from any of them where the place you wanted to go is, your body makes a reflex to indicate that you were looking for something different. For instance, you might instantly look at your wrist- even though you have forgotten that you have no watch- to indicate that you have forgotten something.
This is what happens to most people with low esteem. For example, this was what I used to experience most of my teenage days because of my plus size body. I was obese from the time I was a young girl and most people, including my school mates used to make fun of me. This always made me feel hated; feel unworthy and worked negatively towards my self esteem. It made me hate myself.
I tried most of the recommended exercises; tried dieting and all that was possible to make me feel wanted but nothing worked as I desired. Instead, I was still gaining weight and I never felt good about it. While in college, I had difficulties finding a boyfriend like other girls and I often was melancholic and lonely. I had few friends, though I never believed in any of them. No matter how much they tried to make me feel better, I always felt that they were mocking me. I hardly participated in any event.
The turning point
One weekend, while almost everyone had gone to attend a beauty show in our college compound, I headed to the student center to busy myself and pass time. On TV that day, was a Tour de France, a cycling competition. I had loved cycling while young, though I never tried it. I always felt odd because of my body size and the mockery which would later result. In the competition, there was one chubby guy who cycled very well and came third in the competitions. As he approached the finish line, there was loud cheering and applause, which meant that he was loved and appreciated.
This triggered something in me and gave me some confidence. That night, I called my dad and told him that I needed a bike. The following day, dad came to visit me at college with the bike. I took time to know how to ride.
A few months later, I registered to participate in a local cycling competition where I emerged second. Like the chubby guy on TV, I was much cheered that day. The best part of all this was that the cycling enabled me to burn some calories and within a year or so, I had cut much of my weight and was much like everyone else. My confidence rose and I felt much better about myself. I dream of participating in the Olympics one day to prove that I’m worth like anybody else.