I'm a writer.

I think I'm a good writer, I have readers and I have admirers that enjoy the stories I craft and the characters that I bring to life.

I honestly believe that a big reason that I am able to create these stories and characters is because I've been looking for the 'real me' or 'the me that i'm to become' for so many years.

When I was young, my father called me fat. I wasn't fat, I was a normal six year old girl with absolutely no curves or definition - just like a little girl should be - but that comment didn't feel great.

It's a bit crazy how childhood 'traumas' can fully shape your life. The more I read about real, honest traumas, the worse I feel about having these 'first world' traumas.

Aside aside, it was my puberty that really just destroyed any positive emotions I had about my looks. Little things happened, comments, normal trauma, and it all reared its ugly head by the time I had graduated college and was moving on to law school. At this point, I was a neurotic individual with a bunch of physical problems and an obsession with getting my daily makeup perfect, but nothing diagnosable... yet.

It was during law school when the stress got so intense that I became absolutely OCD about the way I did my makeup. I would go through rituals that, if I messed up, I would have to go through again and again. It was taking hours to get to school and then I just stopped going. At one point, I had picked at my skin so badly that I put neosporin on my nose and a bandaid on it. That's when I found out that I was allergic to neosporin.

It was OCD that they diagnosed me with, but then I read into the DSM and brought up Body Dysmorphic Disorder with my therapist. I have to say that though the diagnosis didn't make me feel better and the lack of many other people or support groups was disappointing to say the least, the Cognitive Behavioral Therapy was wonderful and it broke my rituals.

No more do I have to 'redo' the entire ritual if I get one step wrong. No more do I have to take hours and hours trying to get things right. But I have good days and bad days.

Strangely, as I read through everyone else's journey, I see that a lot of people fixate on their noses. Why is that? Is it because they stick out into the world? They lead the way? Maybe. I hate my nose because I pick at it. I would love to be voldemort at times, with just a couple of slits. I don't ever want plastic surgery on my nose - I know it wouldn't help - but sheesh, can't I leave me alone?

Anywho, this went nowhere, but it felt good to write.

I am looking for people to share experiences with. It feels lonely with a diagnosis and no one to really understand it, even my wonderful husband. It hurts him to see me hurt and I would just like to be able to talk things out with someone who understands.

Thanks for reading.