It is painful. I cried for the entire year. Never experienced pain like that in my life. It takes a strong person to let go. Its true what everyone has been saying. Time heals but in the end you will be a much better and stronger person. You will see the decision you made was for the best. Much love and luck to you. Blessings.

I have a few thoughts I would like to share. I am probably older than anyone else on this website… I have been through three surgeries to correct cross-eyes (which were not really successful) as a little girl, and suffered the torment of childhood bullying because of how I looked or didn’t look at people. I had a bad overbite until finally getting braces on my teeth. I have large droopy breasts which have always made me appear much heavier than I am. I have no rear to speak of, so I have a weird top heavy appearance. Dull mousy brown hair. My point is that unless a woman happens to be in the 0.01% of womanhood that has the body of a model, we all have physical traits we or others consider unsightly or even dare I use your word, yes, ugly.
My partner (never ever thought I would find someone who thought I was attractive, but he calls me beautiful and loves me) has a bald pate, paunchy gut, extremely hairy body, and yellowing teeth. That does not take away from the fact that we worship each other and I allow him to control my life and do what he will to me.
You reap what you sow, Happiness breeds happiness, t’is a fact. Have you tried telling your partner daily that you love him? Write him love notes and make them flowery. Maybe you can’t afford a lot, but even discount stores carry pretty large size sexy lingerie. Try wearing some to bed and watch his eyes light up.
Make yourself feel good too. If you have access, plant a flower or veggie garden. Working the earth heals the soul. Take a little walk. Write down thoughts in a pretty notebook or journal every day about what makes your soul sing. Play sultry music in your bedroom, and light a candle in the bathroom or bedroom.
I know this all sounds juvenile and cheesy…. but believe me… when you assault your senses with fresh new scents and feelings, your spirit awakens and you realize things just are not that bad and THEN you can work on yourself. You need to make love to YOURSELF and then, then you can make love to your beloved and caring partner.

I would love to correspond with you… if you want.
Sending a big hug to you, my friend,
elandelmar@gmail.com

Letting someone go is one of the bravest, yet hardest things to do. I’ve let go of friends and lovers, not because I’ve wanted to, but because it was necessary to allow us all to flourish. Sometimes these relationships, these interactions, sometimes they just no longer work and they can become destructive to ones sense of self. I’ll try not to promote selfishness, but recognising what’s best for you is imperative. Seek it out and go for it. Be your own best friend.

This piece is a very touching piece. There’s no bitterness or malice in your words. Clearly someone has touched your life deeply and I’m willing to bet you’ve touched theirs in much the same vein. Be proud of that experience for it takes real strength to recognise, cherish and let go.

Wishing you all the best.

Liv x

Also, it is very sexy, a wee bit too sexy *fans self and breathes*

Thank you for sharing.

I am woman, I hear you roar and I wish the OP would learn to roar like you.

I concur with the communication. Without communication between lovers, how can there be progress?

You, Pea, are also the epitome of beauty, your photos show that and I hope the OP will seek out your blog and see that.

Original Poster, I feel your pain and it saddens me, I hope you can find peace and love and I hope you learn to roar!

What’s worse than being ugly? Being ugly, alone and unwanted.

God, I want to hug you. It’s not very productive. Just to make you feel some humanity. I have some stats/details for you.

I am 320+lbs
I have stretch marks all over my belly & boobs.
I have terrible acne on the tops of my arms & sometimes my bum.
I have a huge scar above my c~section scar where I had an infection after giving birth in 2009.
When I laugh, you can see how many teeth I have missing due to being neglected when I was younger.
I have a horribly scarred vagina, arounf the bottom towards the perineum.
I have the biggest bingo wings but the flattest bottom.
I have a hairy chin & upper lip.
I am 38 in July.
My tummy hangs over, well over.
I have very pendulous breasts.

and I now accept it all.

For 36 years I thought I was ugly. My mother stated that I was ugly, day in, day out for 14 years. Amongst other abuse. I have three children, those three children were all concieved wearing some sort of clothing.

You are not alone. Ever.

They say ‘love yourself’ and in some ways that is true, but until someone came into my life and categorically told me, you are beautiful, only then did I start to believe. I spent 36+ years self~loathing. Until someone wouldn’t and hasn’t given up on me.

You now, subsequently entrusted us with the thoughts that you know your partner loves you, desires you & that rhis all solely lies with you. But, communication is key. You have decided not to tell him about this here. But, have a night where you start playfully start asking questions. Asking what he finds a turn on with you..and vice versa.

I’ve written this so many time. But we are here for such a short time. I lost my Dad at 57. I was 30 at the time. I have no family apart from my children & my Beau. I used to think the world hated me. He’s shown me you only need to like yourself & everything grows from there. Positivity breeds positivity.

You’re a woman. You’re beautiful, regardless.

I now walk naked around my bedroom in front of Beau, we make love, naked. I pee in front of him, naked. I bathe in front of him, naked. I’d cook naked, but it might frighten the children

You are woman, hear yourself roar..

I am PlumptiousPea on Twitter.. feel free to find me.

Pea ~x~

Thank you so much for your kind (and tough!) words. I do always feel a certain separation between my mind and my body, but I do not always actively hate it. My angst is worse when I have awful acne on my face, because it’s frankly difficult to look in a mirror then. Unfortunately, acne coincides with female hormonal changes, making for a very manic few days every once in awhile.

I do have, did have, a seriously bad episode when I wrote this entry and submitted it to Anonymous, aggravated by the dissolution of a friendship that was clearly more important to me than the other person, family drama, and even financial pressure. Tax Day in the United States is this week, and it reminds me of all the money I don’t have to spend on pedicures, manicures, waxing, haircuts, facials, stylists, and good-fitting and attractive outfits. We gave a large chunk of it to Uncle Sam this week instead.

My partner is a generous, affectionate man with whom I’ve been for more than a decade. He is supportive and does try in many ways (both words and deeds) to express that he likes me just the way I am. If anything, he’s probably weary of reassuring me, and so the compliments have gone the way of opening doors for me and sending flowers and leaving romantic notes — it’s not disgust, but rather apathy and familiarity and the stress of daily life. He has never discouraged me from doing girlie things to help me feel better about my appearance, either, even when I know we can’t really afford for me to spend a hundred dollar bill at the salon every few weeks. He has never once proclaimed me unattractive, even if he is an ‘ass’ man and prefers sex from behind. He does know I have serious body image issues, and has known that from very early on in our relationship.

He does not know that I wrote this, nor will I be telling him. It would upset him, because of the criticism some of the comments have levied at him but more because my words about myself would hurt and disappoint him. He is not the one who is manic about my body — that’s on me. I realize my depressed-grieving words did cast some sense of failure on him, but in the cold light of morning I know I read more into his preferences than I should. The fact is, he’d rather do it from behind so he can watch my backside as he fucks me, not because he doesn’t want to see my face. It turns him on to watch me beneath him.

I did not relate my whole story here because those who know me could identify me easily from the telling.

A piece of my heart was long ago broken by emotional (not physical) bullying that began in elementary school and lasted until I left home (going as far as my parents would agree) for college. I can tell you firsthand that the words of children and teenagers can scar a soul forever. In those days and that place, teachers and administrators did not notice or intervene, except to tell me I should be more outgoing and those monsters would be my friends. By the end of middle school, I did not want them to be my friends, I just wanted to survive them … and I still had four years to go.

I also did not express all of my body image issues. Stretch marks are evil, I agree about swimming and I live near a beautiful beach. So are scars, for they remind us not only that we have survived, but also that we can never forget. The physical manifestations of genetics are also in play.

Yes, “Ugly” rings inside my brain, both in my memory and in the mocking voices at the back of my brain. But I can set it aside and go about my life, not caring too much and being a productive member of society.

That’s where I’m headed now.

Again. Thank you.