Allow me to share with you a very real problem that I have been dealing with for my entire life. Self-esteem. Confidence. Body image. These issues started to reveal themselves to me at an oddly early age, like when I realized that I was one of the tallest and heaviest boys in my third grade class or when I hit puberty before anyone my age. I don’t have an older brother so I really didn’t have an older guy to whom I could relate. Since I was often ashamed of the way I looked and clearly didn’t feel good about myself, I covered up as best as I could from others. For me, this hiding was a physical battle, and my shirt was my protective armor.
Look at your own shirt. Feel it. Remember it.
I don’t know what your shirts mean to you—they may not hold much of any significant value at all—but my shirts have meant a lot to me, and they actually have carried very symbolic meanings.
What I began to realize, as a shy, innocent and nervous freshman in high school was that under my nice little button-down shirt and tie, deep red blemishes speckled my chest and shoulders. Cystic acne, the harshest and most painful form of acne, essentially left open sores and scabs on my upper body. I felt like I was a moving target of public humiliation, especially during the swimming season when I felt most exposed. No one dared say anything about my acne when they saw it, but the physical and emotional pain that I felt was unbearable.
That year, I was prescribed the miracle drug known as Accutane, the closest known cure for cystic acne. I had hoped that after Accutane my acne would be gone forever and that I finally would be somewhat happy with how I looked. I saw my shirt as a symbol of the freedom from my external self-esteem issues. But I wasn’t happy at all. The acne was gone, but now I used my shirt to hide my permanent acne scars, my uncomfortably hairy chest and my weight.
Unfortunately, the acne made a minor reappearance towards the end of my senior year, as the doctor warned might happen. Again, I was prescribed Accutane, but the second time with Accutane was different. At this time in my life, the scars were not nearly as visible; I sort of got used to my annoyingly hairy body; I grudgingly admitted that my body was never going to be as cut or toned as my best friend’s. This feeble, yet honest, attempt at self-acceptance could only reach so far, though. In the back of my mind, I was terrified of the chance of my acne coming back in full force, as anticipated.
I saw Accutane as a crutch used on the path of my discovery of loving myself. So this time I stayed on the medicine out of fear. I was so afraid of looking worse and feeling worse about myself that I ignored all of the signs of the intense depression that Accutane was causing within me. This miracle drug is infamous for its rare side effects, and I was experiencing the worst of them. Accutane was my new “shirt”; it was the way I hid from everyone else how I felt and how I looked (or, at least, the way I thought I looked). I kept this “shirt” on to cover up an internal, deep-seated dissatisfaction. I was neglecting the fact that I really did not love myself for who I was, and this lack of healthy self-love was beginning to affect everything in my life, including my relationships and my behavior.
By my senior year of high school, I was at the peak of my training and preparation for a potential future with collegiate tennis. So when my chemically charged emotions began to spill over into my tennis game, everyone from my friends, teammates, coaches and parents noticed. During one of my tennis matches at the height of my emotional distress, my best friend and my parents realized (as I should have months earlier) that the Accutane was the catalyst of this serious problem. This moment on the tennis court was such a clear revelation of my inner turmoil that I was immediately taken off of the medicine that night, merely two months into a six-month prescription. My parents’ and friend’s intervention out of love for me came at a time when I no longer could help myself. Talk about a moment of grace! I cannot thank them enough for the love that I experienced then.
And so now finally being off of Accutane, I have a clearer mind and clearer heart. It was fear of how I looked and how I felt about myself that drove me to cling to Accutane, but the effects that Accutane had on me the second time I took it were incredibly harmful: I wasn’t able to think clearly or feel like myself as a result of the chemical imbalance in my brain. Once my friend and my parents helped me to break this unperceived dependence, I acquired a new sense of freedom and relief. For as long as I can remember, I have struggled and suffered through trying to love myself and allowing others to love me for who I am and as I am. I am slowly opening myself up more to love and away from fear. The gift of life that God has given me is tangible. This gift of life is the gift of who I am, as I am, for which I am more and more thankful.
Even as I have grown in my love for myself, my problems have not instantly disappeared. I continue to struggle with confidence and appearance today, and I am still not all too comfortable with this body. There have been days and weeks, even while I have been a student here at Notre Dame, where I have not been able to even look at myself in the mirror because I was so dissatisfied. A skill that I’m terribly good at, but one for which I am never proud, is my quick ability to compare myself to other people in almost every way possible.
A self-esteem and body image problem is not one to which many guys will admit. I am discovering this to be a life-long struggle. I hope to keep dealing with it head-on—with the help from friends, my family and especially from God.
So, again, look at your shirt. I used to hide behind my shirt, then I hid behind Accutane, all the while keeping hidden the person God created me to be—blemishes and hair and all. Ask yourself if you are hiding behind anything. Are you hiding from your internal or external insecurities, or limiting yourself from freedom? Let’s all remember that God gave us this beautiful and awesome gift of life; God created us out of love, and we are called to humbly accept and cherish who we are, as we are, especially as we hope to grow into who God is calling us to be.