I have never kissed anybody, never really held somebody's hand or snuggled with them on a sofa. I've certainly never been intimate with anyone. 

For a long time I viewed romance as something that happened to fictional characters. For some reason it still startles me when a couple kisses at a station or a friend mentions a significant other. Relationships don't seem to fit into my reality. 

I was decidedly hung up on someone for a long time and I'm still stuck in a limbo of crush recovery crossed with lack of (romantic) interest in other humans. Even so, I'm so shy and insecure that the idea of telling someone you find them attractive doesn't even form a proper image in my head. 

This isn't something that I wail over every day, but it does get me down. I ask myself why I've never had a relationship. Enter low self esteem, 'well I'm obviously just unattractive.' I honestly can't see why someone would be interested in me - 65% due to my physical appearance. The rest - I have an annoying laugh and I'm awkward. 

I don't know how to 'accept' my body for what it is. What does that mean?? How do I do that?? Do I yell that I am beautiful at my reflection every day for ten minutes? On the other hand, I enjoy food and sitting down. Something has to give. 

I wish my dad hadn't made so many comments about my weight and my shape throughout my teenage years. I wish people didn't think it was okay to call me fat and then quickly backtrack into 'it was a joke!!' when I got upset. I wish that society didn't teach girls that skinny is attractive and worthy of love, and anything else is worthless and ugly. Because of my low self-esteem I deny myself closeness and love from other people - a basic human need. 

I self-sabotage. I withdraw around people I'm attracted to. I become immensely intimidated because all of a sudden they have an immense power over my attitude towards myself. They can hurt me. 

I hope, one day, to learn that my body is fine and natural and that a lot of people aren't as closed-minded as I perceive them. But for now, I am disgusted by my own flesh and perplexed by (and envious of) the quiet tenderness that most humans share with one another. 

Thank you for reading,

Catherine