What Would Be Left Of Me?

This is a poem/story about being yourself even when it isn't accepted.

I heard you say you wish my teeth were straighter, my hair was better, and my body was smaller. You tell me my skin is too light, my voice is too loud, and I am too clumsy and distracted. The more times you say it, the more I start to believe. The more I believe, the more I hate me... and you. I hate that you make me feel like I'm not enough. I hate that I have to change to be what you want. I hate that you've changed my perspective of myself and made me feel less than. I hate that your words have pushed me away and hurt me enough to affect our relationship. But I love you, so here's what I did:

I pulled out my teeth, and smiled a toothless grin of satisfaction. "Maybe she will like me now", I thought. But I knew that was not enough. So I ripped out my hair, and the image in the mirror looked different than normal. But different is a good thing. It's what you want. So I keep going. I start to slice off the parts of my body that had too much fat. I go for my stomach first. This is the most painful part of this process so far. I didn't know I was willing to hurt this badly for you, but I realized that your disapproval hurts worse. So I kept slicing down my hips legs and arms. I looked in the mirror this time and I no longer see a body but flesh and bones. I've come this far, so I keep going. After all, no pain no gain, right? I peel off my remaining skin which isn't as hard to do now that a lot of it is hanging off of me. Next, I dig out my voice box so it won't be so bothersome. I am so very close to the end of this pain. I finally take out my brain which controls much of my balance and focus. This was the moment I dropped lifeless. What will you do now? Will you miss the parts of me that are no longer there? Will you wish for the things that you once wished away?

I sit up and breathe heavily. I stand up and go to the mirror, relieved. My hair is so beautiful, my teeth so perfect, and I'm able to move so freely in the body I am in. The light bounces off of my skin so wonderfully; I can sing with my voice; I can daydream. This was all a horrible nightmare, but it taught me to love what God gave me. For if I took it all away, what would be left of me?

Author's Note

This is a rough draft full of ideas. It could become more poem like. I would love to hear thoughts or even see a rewrite if anyone has an idea for that. Please let me know.