why I hate myself.

I debated whether or not posting this was a good idea. I came to the conclusion that it is a bad idea. But here I am.

Yeah. That’s not actually me. But it doesn’t matter.

And now I shall tell you why I hate myself.


I am weak. I get upset so easily. I cry. I get so anxious that I can’t do the simplest things, never mind the harder things. I’m weak in so many ways.

I am selfish. I think of myself too much. Sometimes, I don’t even realize I’m doing it. I think I’m helping or supporting someone, but I notice, too late, that I’ve just related their situation to mine and I find myself talking about me. How self-centered is that?

I’m too dependent on others (so fucking needy). I don’t see anything positive about myself unless someone else sees it. I don’t feel good about myself unless someone else makes me feel good. I feel worthless unless someone else thinks I’m worth it. You get the idea. I need constant validation or I think I’m useless.

I make terrible decisions. I always have. I don’t even like the dress I chose to wear for school pictures in second grade. That’s not something that keeps me up at night, but there are plenty of examples of things that do. Just a few decisions that haunt me: my choice of college, my choice of college major, my choice of friends (years ago, now I just have none), my choice of jobs, my choice of husband, my choice to live where I live (although that wasn’t really my choice, but I should have fought for what I wanted), my choice to have children.

I don’t have a mind of my own. For most of my life, I felt like I needed to be my sister (one, specifically, not the other two). But I stopped when I started to be influenced by other people instead. I would have been better off continuing to try to be my sister because those other influences steered me down the wrong path. But the point is that I rarely stand up for myself and I feel like I have to do what others do rather than be myself. I guess I would have to know who I am to be myself. And that’s the why I try to be someone else. Which leads me to…

I don’t know who I am. What do I love? What do I want? What is my passion? What makes me happy? Who the fuck am I? I don’t know. I don’t have any real answers. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to live up to others—trying to be others—that I don’t know who I am. I don’t think I’ve ever known. I have no self. It’s like I’ve been searching for something my whole life but I don’t know what it is so I can’t find it.

I can’t keep from thinking and saying horrible things about myself (and this entire post is a good example). I am certain that part of why I do this is because if the same horrible things came from someone else, they would hurt more, so I beat them to the punch. This also speaks to my self-deprecating humor. Make the joke before someone else does. The problem, of course, is that it is entirely possible no one would make the jokes or say the horrible things at all.

I am a terrible mother. I know I’m not doing a good job. My mom made it look so easy. Maybe my sisters and I were angels. (Doubtful.) But it’s not easy. Not for me, anyway. Maybe she was just a natural and I’m not. I do believe that I was never cut out to be a parent. Among other things, my anxiety and depression should have been red flags. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me having kids would be a bad idea for me? Why didn’t I know that myself?

I have no ambition. I never figured out what I wanted to do with my life (maybe because I don’t know who I am) so I’m doing nothing. That’s fucked up. I’m a grown woman. I need to be doing something. I wish I had some idea—any idea whatsoever—what I would like to do. But I don’t. I never knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Well, guess what? I grew up. And since I was laid off because of a non-hostile company takeover several years ago, I haven’t worked. I didn’t love the job I had, but it was alright. It didn’t have a clear title, so job hunting is difficult. Now, not only have we gotten into a routine where I need to be around for the kids, but also I have been out for so long that the thought of going back sends me into panic mode. [Yes, I have searched extensively for work-from-home jobs but I haven’t found anything. Besides, even work-from-home doesn’t mean I can come and go as I please.]

I have zero confidence. I am not great at anything. I’m good at some things, but not great at any of them. I am just not good enough in general. I constantly compare myself to others and I always fall short. I’m smart, but not smart enough. I’m pretty, I suppose, but not pretty enough. I’m not rich enough (fuck, I’m not rich at all), I’m not happy enough (again, not at all), I’m not outgoing enough, I’m not skinny enough. I’m not good enough at parenting, art, writing, cooking, baking. In short, I suck. How can someone so weak and useless have any confidence?

I crave attention. I think this is related to the “too dependent on others” thing. Both speak to my excessive neediness. I want attention, but I don’t like to be the center of attention. That statement makes perfect sense in my head, but I have no idea how to explain it to you. I want to be noticed, but not by everyone at once, maybe? I am failing spectacularly at explaining this one.

I am awkward around people. I don’t know how to make friends. I don’t know how to strike up conversations. All I can think of right now are those work gatherings I was forced to attend (and believe me, I tried to get out of them all). I would walk over to some coworkers I knew pretty well, and they would all be talking, socializing. I would try to be part of the conversation, but inevitably, I’d end up standing there awkwardly, unable to become a part of anything. Eventually, I’d just slip away and cry on my drive home that night.

So. There are a dozen reasons why I hate myself. Honestly, I had to cut myself off because I could have continued.

Why am I like this?

At least I am intelligent and have a great sense of humor. All is not lost. Maybe.


I also have great taste in sexy hot guys.

p.s. — It is okay if you agree with some of what I’ve listed here. Actually, I’d be surprised if you don’t agree with any of them. 

©2021 what sandra thinks

About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, sometimes blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Italy, but she would settle for a non-oceanfront home in Italy. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
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40 Responses to why I hate myself.

  1. gigglingfattie says:

    My experience with you is that I don’t agree with these things. But I definitely understand that sometimes our minds get stuck on the negative things. I hope for you is that you start to find the positive little things and maybe some of this list will decrease?

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I’m not a fan of myself. Call it insecurity or low self esteem.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You know my stance. We can agree on the intelligence and sense of humor takes, yes. The other stuff? 🤨🤨

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I hit Like on this for your courage to share it.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. So, you’re the classic introvert. We knew that. There will be a majority on here who would probably say the same. The good thing is that you have articulated it, not just once, but many times. Most introverts, in my view, adjust their lives according to how they can cope with their particular needs and desires. You have just overcompensated, almost to the level of shut down from all outside influences. You need to open up, just a little bit, and allow others in to help you pull your head above water again. You can, and you will, do it. I know, even if you don’t and, as I’ve said more than once, the good things will sneak up on you when you are not looking. Hugs and best wishes to you as always Sandra. 💜

    Liked by 2 people

    • I am isolated. Not alone, exactly, but isolated. I am closed off from the world in lots of ways. I’m not sure how to let anyone in when there’s no one at the door. I have you and others here. But I still feel isolated. I wish I could see a future when I stop feeling at least some of these things, but I don’t see it. Every day, something else bad happens, but nothing good. It’s painful as hell.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. I wish it was easier for me to be online, engaged with people such as yourself in this digital space, because now that I have discovered you, you … I don’t know, this is dumb and I hate myself for making myself say it, but you give me hope and hope is a four letter word that I can never afford anymore. I also hate myself, in all the same ways you describe. You are visible in a way I can never be, because of my brain injury and failing vision and everything else. You say you have zero confidence because you don’t believe you are good at anything… you are great at being visible and loud and …. not that my opinion matters at all, but that’s something to be proud of. Most people will simply hide themselves away and die alone in their misery, having never spoken their truth. Thank you for speaking your truth.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I have no idea how I give you hope when I don’t have any. Why can’t you have hope? Everyone should have it. (Yes, I sound like a hypocrite, but not really because I do believe I should have it, too… I just can’t seem to find it.)

      How do I give you hope, if I may ask?

      Of course your opinion matters! It matters to me. What you said made me feel like someone gets me. And I value that.

      I guess I have never seen my ability to open up here as something I’m good at or something to be proud of. I’m anonymous here, so it’s different. If my real identity (more than just my first name Sandra) was out here, I wouldn’t open up about much at all. Maybe nothing.

      Being able to say all of this is a big part of why I post here. I need the anonymity to be brave.

      Thank you for saying kind things to me. Maybe it’s pathetic, but I need that.

      Liked by 2 people

      • Hope that someone might listen to my words one day. I can’t have hope because all that is left for me is despair. Amygdala, hypothalamus… damaged. I doubt I’ll ever know peace or contentment ever again. All I have left is my voice, but that doesn’t really work out well for me either. I make people very very uncomfortable. And I hate that I do, but I guess you make me remember that it doesn’t matter if I make anyone uncomfortable with my truth.

        Liked by 1 person

        • I think that is true. If your truth makes someone uncomfortable, that’s on them, not you. Everyone has a right to their own truth and no one should have to hide it. I’m glad if anything I have said has made you feel better in any way.

          Liked by 1 person

  7. Tracey Ellen says:

    I, too, think you’re very brave for posting this. So that’s a strike against weak. Have you ever considered that instead of being selfish maybe you’re just extremely empathetic and trying to relate to what the other person is talking about? Honestly, I can see a lot of myself in your post. Guess what? I’m 49 and still haven’t figured out what I want to be when I grow up. Tell your anxiety to fuck off. It’s trying to convince of all sorts of nasty things. And one last thing – you’re not alone in how you feel. I promise you’re not.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I never divulge my age here (or some other things) because I want to maintain my anonymity. Without it, I wouldn’t share much about me. But I can tell you that I’m no confused 20-something looking for my way. I’m well past that (quite well past that). You and I may have even more in common than you think. My kids are 13 and 16… I’m sure you can do the math and guess my age range.

      I tried to convince myself that I am just empathetic and not selfish, but once I started noticing that I unknowingly turn every conversation into something about me, it didn’t seem like empathy anymore. It seemed more like self-centered-ness (fake word).

      I hate that I have never known (and still don’t know) what I want to be. It made me follow all different paths that were all wrong for me, maybe because I was chasing other people, not finding my own path. I still haven’t found it. I can’t even get myself to keep looking.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Ogden Fahey says:

    I get what you’re saying I think! I don’t ever feel like anyone else, I’m such a loser, that’s my ID basically, the loser guy! LOL But do I care? No, cos I’m used to it, its like being on the starting line – forever! What the hell? Why is my life so dumb?? 🙂 Xx

    Liked by 1 person

  9. jrvincente says:

    I understand how you feel. *hugs* I often feel that way about myself, especially the bad mom part. And then through a random set of circumstances I found out that one of my ex-husband’s new girlfriends is telling people I’m a bad mother. Just great. Ugh. I should know that I’m a good mother without someone needing to tell me, but I’m not. I don’t think I am. I need other people to tell me that. So like… anyway… sorry, I didn’t mean to make it about me. I just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.

    I also know my mom thinks she did a terrible job raising me, and I think she was a great mom. So hopefully your kids will think the same. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Simon says:

    If you’re intelligent and have a good sense of humor then you are far from lost. Love those parts of yourself at least. If I was to hazard a guess I would say that maybe (just maybe) things are not as bad as you think but you have these feelings for a reason and working through why might help you.

    I think you’re pretty cool myself but if I’m honest I can relate to some of the feeling you describe. I’m not exactly in love with myself.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Bloglifenstuff says:

    Can I pull up a chair? This is exactly me right now. Except I’m not a mother lol…

    Liked by 1 person

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