Imagine being a parent and having to watch and hear your child tearing themselves to shreds, picking at the tiniest parts of themselves and hating it until they can’t stand to stare at that part of them in the mirror anymore. They’re your creation, you’re little piece of art that you’ve loved since the day they were placed together by all the little bits and pieces of you. To witness something that you find so wonderfully beautiful picking at every flaw they can find must be heart shattering. And not only are they breaking themselves, they’re breaking those tiny little pieces of you that make them whole. To be the creator and know that the piece itself doesn’t like its, although dainty, unique parts that you have given it, even though it’s the best you could have possibly offered, must be heart breaking. It’s as if your child is saying ‘I have your eyes - but they’re not pretty enough. So in affect, it’s not only my dull, grey eyes that I despise of, it’s yours, too. What you have given me isn’t enough, it’s ugly, even if it’s the best parts of you that you could’ve offered.’
A reminder to myself when I decide which part of me to dislike next.