The Remaining Traces of Rejection

I was born in Saudi Arabia.
When I was young,
I was bullied because of my dark skin.
I didn’t have any friends,
Because no one wanted to be friends with me.
I hated myself.
I wanted to die,
So I could go to heaven,
And be reborn as a girl with pale skin,
Blonde hair,
And green eyes.

Because of the bullying and rejection,
I was hostile as a kid,
And I needed love and attention.
I don't know what helped me overcome these issues.
But for a while now,
I’ve come to love my skin tone and facial features,
And I am certain that the way I look best suits my personality.

I still struggle with the remaining traces of rejection,
And with relationships.
There’s a certain kind of people,
That make me feel anxious and rejected,
Because they remind me of what I’m supposed to look like,
According to societal beauty standards.
But I try and struggle to be comfortable and confident with how I look.

Warning The stories on our story archive could contain potentially sensitive and/or triggering material. If a story causes you discomfort or pain, please remember to breathe and check in with yourself before continuing or stop reading completely if necessary.