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The project aims at looking beyond the smiles of the next person, to see what’s really beneath, what’s really going on? How people really need help and won’t bother saying anything about it but would rather cover it up with a façade of strength, with a smile.
It’s time to look beneath the smile and lend a helping hand. People are going through real things, these are their stories.
We hope that you’d be kind enough to leave a comment. Your feedback is important to us.
Today’s story was sent in by one of our readers who has asked to stay Anonymous.
This is her story.
The ‘Beneath the Smile’ Project.
She’s cool with all the guys and all the girls love to hate, all the adults love her!!!
Then why on earth do her pillows take a bath every night listening to her silent cries and feeling the soft rhythmic rocking of her body?
But back to the genesis of it all:
Life as an 8-year-old wasn’t much fun – Even kids at that age were mean. Being a big child didn’t make things any better. I was teased for being FAT and teased for being SICK (like it was my fault), so I buried myself in school work. Being the teacher’s pet didn’t help matters but I lived through it becoming a binge eater. When I’m stressed, something goes in – After all I’m already a pig so what more could go wrong but then I was the poster girl for ‘Smiles ‘R’ Us’ because who smiled more than I did?
Getting to secondary school was supposed to make things better – at least there was someone bigger than me in my class. But no! This time teachers joined in and it was torture so I was determined to show them and do the best I could – It worked before didn’t it? At first I did fine, but then I got too cocky and dropped drastically. I got home and I decided there and then to end my life because the only thing I had going for me was gone. I picked up a knife and was about to stab myself when my dad came in and stopped me just in time. I still wonder why sometimes.
It became too painful to hang around my female ‘friends’ because they were always on about the flattest stomachs and the thinnest waists and the hottest boyfriends so I had nothing to talk about with them. Behind my back, I could feel the looks and hear their whispering, not just because they all shut up when I came around. My journey to acquiring male friends began. I felt that if we were friends, then they couldn’t see me as girl friend material and that was more comforting than the fact that I was fat and ugly. My hot younger sister who I was constantly being compared to didn’t help matters. I starved myself for days and then I’d eat a lot because I was so hungry then starve myself again as a punishment as I felt guilty. It was a sick circle of life but I could still win the most dazzling smile award.
I don’t trust anyone. I’m too scared to get hurt. Those I let remotely close to me feel I’m somewhat standoff-ish and snobbish because I always say ‘I’m fine!’ Well, I am – As fine as I’ll ever be I guess. I want to be loved too. I craved love so much I let ‘him’ touch me because it felt like love. It was my first time, but somewhere along the line I stopped him. It just felt wrong but he got mad and almost raped me. I got lucky I guess but I made sure I hurt him bad. I felt dirty and tried jumping over a balcony once but then I wouldn’t have died – They would have saved me and I didn’t want to be saved.
Is it a crime to want to be loved?
Well I moved on and supposedly found comfort in ‘Jesus’. I was a Christian already and all that but this was supposed to be different. Funny, I felt good in church and fellowship and all but I still came back to cry my heart out or sleep depressed. Helping people sort out their problems too gave a thrill that wore off as soon as the problem was over and I was back to reality. That was my high.
But I’m past going to bed depressed. I was getting to the point where I was actually stating to be happy for real and long periods of time and then something else had to happen. There was a drastic change in my family and I had to grow up fast!
It’s still a very recent feeling and sometimes I still do cry, but this time I have made a decision that enough is enough. I’ve hidden beneath the smile long enough.
It’s time to come out from beneath it and make it real.
• • •
A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?
N.B. The project goes on with Monday’s ’Her Story, V’ by Anonymous writer
You can still send in your own true stories to firstname.lastname@example.org
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