They’re like stains I can’t scrub off. I tried to vent once, tried to put something real out there about lookism and heightism, about how they’re not just “preferences” but prejudices that change how the world sees you, how you see yourself. I didn’t say anything hateful. I didn’t attack anyone. I just wanted to get it off my chest, maybe spread some awareness, maybe feel less alone for once. People twist your words, make you sound like a monster, then tell you you’re better off gone. And it sticks. “Weird. Annoying. Ugly. Kill yourself.” Over and over. I don’t understand why it’s like this. Why does it feel like I’m the one who’s wrong for even existing, like I’m too broken or too different to be here? The words won’t stop. They’re on me, in me, and I don’t know how to make them go away. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am all those things. Maybe I should just stop trying.
