Just

The Story

Hello everyone! A girl just over 20 is writing to you. All my life I've been limited in appearance. It's not that I have something that I don't look good on, but from clothes, cosmetics, make-up and manicures - things that girls can't do without today. I will start from the beginning to understand everything. When I was little, I wore a lot of my brother's clothes - it's about kindergarten. And from then on, the harassment of me began. You are very ugly, you wear men's clothes, your hair is like a boy's, and I am a child of 4 to 5. I had both psychological and physical harassment - they pulled my hair, bit my hands, slapped me when there were lice in the group, my name was always mentioned as a contagion. Now that I think about it, they are childish normal things, but my psyche didn't perceive them that way. I couldn't wait for kindergarten to end. Shortly before I started 1st grade, my mother lost her job. And only my father worked and fed us - me, my brother and my mother. All the children from my street bragged about new clothes for 1st grade, only I hadn't bought anything yet. My backpack arrived a few days before the start of the school year because it was a gift from my cousin. She knew what situation we were in, so she sent it to me, along with two or three notebooks. My birthday falls days before the start and ours wanted to take my clothes for the first day. We went to two or three stores and I was supposed to like something. They couldn't afford what I wanted and they took a green suit from me, which wasn't good at all, but I'm small, what could I do I rummaged before putting it on and left. In addition to my older cousin, I have another one who is one year older. Theirs are wealthy and they used to throw something once or twice, but they had offered me some of her clothes so that I would have something to wear, because the clothes I wore to kindergarten were very childish, and part of them from my brother. But in order not to be underestimated, they gave me her clothes, which were very funny. Both hop and class started with insults. Exactly in 2nd grade, two of my classmates started systematically bullying me. One of them was in my group in dg and he knew that I was harassed there a lot and he had told this one and it all started. From 2nd to 5th grade inclusive in this class I was systematically harassed - insults, swearing, beatings, we made to drink the dirty water from the paint brush. They carried knives threatening me with death, showed me fists every hour that they would beat me, tried to strangle me with weights, and so on. I decided to move to another class. I went where I knew some of the girls, but it started there from day one. Get out of here, go to your class, we don't want ugly people like you here. The next day in the break they called me if they were in your class, we are even worse here. They pulled my ears because they protruded and when I tied my tail they protruded very badly and I looked like a monkey. And they started making fun of me for them, pulling them for me. To be strangled with my hands, fighting with backpacks, one of the boys with a basketball was constantly hitting my head until it started to hurt. I was being treated for the pain. And the teachers in both the previous class and this one didn't believe me, but thought I was mentally ill. And the classmate always thought I was imagining and laughed. The other girls were already wearing make-up, I couldn't dream about it, because neither did ours, nor did I have the opportunity to buy various make-up or dresses and nice jeans. I had one anzung and two trousers from the wide ones, because the fashion of tight dark trousers had started to enter. They dressed fashionably, did their hair, and I didn't even have a press to do my hair. After 8th grade I went to high school and there, unfortunately, hell continued, because with some of them I fell into one class again. But I was no longer physically harassed, only insulted that I was Quasimodo, a menace, no one like me. I was not allowed to put on make-up, or to shave, or to put on a bra. And I was constantly ridiculed for underarm hair during the warmer months, so I was ashamed to wear short sleeves and wore long-sleeved blouses. In 9th grade, I started getting a scholarship and I decided to start setting aside to buy some clothes because I had almost no new ones, and only what my mother took from some second-hand or from my old ones I wore. The boys insulted me for not wearing a bra, and when I cried in 11th grade, my mother finally decided to buy me one. And with each scholarship I took something I needed - clothes, shoes, underwear. For the first time I was made up at the ball and I didn't like myself at all because somehow they didn't make me. I didn't like the dress either, but I had no choice, our people paid, they chose. And it was all hellishly nasty. During my university years, I bought some other clothes from scholarships, but they are not the modern ones that the girls wear. I have no opportunity for the press, nor do I have the right to get eyebrows or go to a beautician to make me up. From this failure I never learned to put on make-up. I look at the others, even small ones, some beautiful, beautiful, I usually go to lectures - without make-up, without hairstyles, etc. And of course the men don't look at me or anything. I have never had a boyfriend, firstly because they threaten me that if I find myself not coming home to us anymore, and the other thing, which is just a piece of sex these days. I fell in love last year for 1 time and I thought he was the same for me. But over time, I realized that he just felt sorry for me, he spoke to me with irony, perhaps to give me confidence, but he didn't like me or anything. I'm ashamed to send my photos or upload them anywhere, because I'm not pretty, I don't put on make-up and I always go out scary. Now they both work for us, but when they teach me something else, I can't think of anything else. My colleagues and I have been blabbering on about why you're not talking, but I'm saying I'm not that kind of girl, just so I don't regret it, because I'm tired of it. I wrote this to you, not to feel sorry for me, but to get advice.

Last Updated
November 09, 2020
Author:
purensoft

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