'Nothing' is Not an Option.

The first chapter in Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen has to do with a mirror forged by the devil. Its reflection turned beautiful things ugly, and good things evil. When demons tried to carry the mirror to Heaven so they could scoff at the angels it shattered before reaching those perfect beings. Upon breaking millions of tiny fragments flew across the Earth, where these shards were used to make window panes and spectacles, where they pierced eyes and even some hearts. Warping the view of all affected.

Of all the fairy tales we learn as children, to learn them fiction the human condition we are just learning, this particular tale has stayed with me. Not because I have a nihilistic view on how people see the world, or a particular faith in the innate goodness in every one disguised by viewpoints. I always had more of a self-centered appreciation. You see, I've always seen the worst in myself, no matter the incident. As if my personal mirror was made of that enchanted glass.

Because no matter how hard I worked, how much I tried to be helpful, how high my marks were in school, or even what I wore my self-image stayed the same. All I could ever be was a useless and stupid girl: ugly inside and out. And in my haste for self-hatred I made sure others knew it too. Anytime a classmate, friend, teacher, or family member attempted to warm how I saw myself, I would immediately move to self-depricate. As if it were a matter of fact, that the reflection I saw, however warped, was the truth and it left me feeling cold.

It was almost comical at times, the lengths I would go to hurt myself verbally, how far my denial reached. Perhaps it was that humor that gave me the tiniest insight into how my self-perception wasn't wholely accurate.

And in that strange sardonic humor is where I may have found my greatest ally. Someone who could see through my self-hatred and who, with kindness and wit, helped me see past the lends I was using.

In my senior year of high school I was at my worst. At the culmination of seven years of festering OCD and depression. In between appointments and preparing for intensive treatment I struggled with everyday tasks while keeping my diagnosis secret from most due to shame. But the cracks in my foundation were evident and they were growing. From my repeated self-deprication to my low mood and anxiety. I imagine many people talked behind my back, from the outside I was just the weird anxious kid who spent lunch in a teacher's classroom instead of my peers. Who was sensitive to noise and who constantly put herself down for no outwardly evident reason.

I was in my third period classroom, where the walls were covered in photos of nature I'd like to visit, and where I quietly sat during lunch for most of my final semester of high school. The teacher of this particular class was funny and kind, he showed the utmost defernce for my weird scheduling and anxious behaviors, he laughed off and rejected my refusal of compliments from classmates, and did his best to listen and show kindness.

This is where the most important sticky note (of all things) in my life enters the picture.

I was anxiously sitting at my desk during lunch when he came back in and simply asked, "Do you mind if I try a little exercise with you?" Though puzzled I nodded. He quickly wrote two statements on the note and gave it to me. It said the following:

Write down one thing you like about yourself, 'nothing' is not an option.

Write down one thing you are proud of about yourself, 'nothing' is not an option.

For a moment I just stared at it, bewildered and at a loss for words. The idea of ascribing positive traits to myself was so foreign to me. It was actually painful racking my brain for an answer. I'd spent so long obscuring the good people saw in me that any recognition of my strenghts was completely gone. After a moment or two he started talking about he'd done this exercise himself before and about some of his similar mental health issues, how they felt and how he overcame them. For the first time I felt truly seen. Just from someone understanding and trying to help. He mentioned that he could hear all the positive beliefs my classmates held about me, and how I constantly rejected that positivity. He cupped his hands around his eyes and spoke about how when we hyper focus on the darkness and negativity we fail to see all of the light around us. This simple conversation initiated a slow paradigm shift, forcing me to question what I considered gospel.

This small piece of paper and small piece of his time didn't change my life over night. I continue to struggle with self-hatred and mental illness but it gave me a new perspective. I may see myself as broken but that's just a refraction, like a straw going through water.

The road of recovery, of self-acceptance, and of love is as ardous as it is long. However, each action we take brings the destanation closer and closer into focus. While I may bleed as I peel away the shards of glass in my life I know that in the new day, whenever it comes, I will finally see the light without judgment and without fear.

Thank you, for your words and for your time.