The Weight of Words: Overcoming Insecurities

Today’s incident taught me something profound about insecurities.

This evening, as I stepped into the lift of my hostel, a few people joined me. Moments later, two girls entered, laughing and giggling, seemingly carefree. But my eyes were drawn to one of them , her arm bore a deep mark, possibly a burn scar, one that seemed permanent and painful. While I wondered what her story might be, I noticed two other girls whispering and giggling while pointing at her feet. One of them said, loud enough for anyone to hear, 

"She could audition for those weird videos on YouTube ‘World’s 10 Most Bizarre Body Parts,’ one of them smirked , pointing at her feet.

The words were so cruel, they stung me, and I wasn’t even the target. Instinctively, my irritation rose. I looked down, noticing her feet for the first time. One toe was missing, replaced by a large lump of skin. It wasn’t her feet, though, that caught my attention next it was her body language.

She stopped smiling. Her face dulled, and the light in her eyes faded out. Slowly, she tugged her jacket sleeves over her hands, trying to make herself smaller, less noticeable. She shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with her feet, as if she could somehow hide them. Her friend asked her something, but she didn’t respond. It was like she was trapped in her mind, reliving every instance someone had made her feel this way.

When the two girls stepped out of the lift, the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. It was just me, her, and her friend now. I noticed her cute pajamas and decided to say something. They were colorful, quirky, and so adorable that they made me smile.

“Hey, I love your PJs,” I said casually.

Her reaction was instantaneous a smile lit up her face. That small compliment, though unrelated to her scars or feet, seemed to restore some of her lost confidence. It was a moment of realization for me: no matter how often we’re told to "ignore others" and "be confident in our own skin," words and stares have the power to hurt deeply. Opinions do touch our hearts. And that’s okay, it’s human.

But what’s equally important is how we respond to that hurt.

The Weight of my own Insecurities

As I walked out of the lift, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her struggle reminded me of my own. For the longest time, I’ve wrestled with insecurities, especially about my weight. Growing up, I was the “healthy” kid, and not in the complimentary way people sometimes say it. But I was unbothered as a kid .

I’d watch movies, scroll through magazines, and hear things from people around me including my family and extended family . “Oh, maybe you should do this ” “You know, these clothes would look better on you.”  Even though some of these remarks weren’t meant to hurt, they did. They chipped away at my confidence bit by bit until I started getting really furious at these things being said to me and instantly became reactive .

Puberty amplified those insecurities. I compared myself to everyone. Why didn’t I look like them? Why wasn’t I “normal”? I’d look at my body and feel like it wasn’t enough, like I wasn’t enough.

But then something shifted. One day, I had this random, almost silly thought: What’s really wrong with me? I had everything I needed to live a good life a loving family, friends, an education, a healthy body. Sure, I wasn’t perfect by society’s standards, but who is? That realization didn’t erase my insecurities, but it gave me perspective.

It also made me see health in a new light. My weight wasn’t just about appearance it was about the kind of life I wanted to lead. I’m a dreamer with big goals, and I realized that achieving those dreams required a healthy, functioning body .Weight is directly proportional to health risks. That’s when I started working on myself not because I wanted to “fit in,” but because I wanted to be the best version of myself.

The Irony of Insecurities

Here’s the funny thing about insecurities, they’re irrational. One day I feel like such a beautiful girl, holding confidence, and the next, I’m convinced I look like a potato. On days when I wear black or feel confident in my outfit, I walk around like I own the world. My walk is full of energy, and my mood is unstoppable. But if I get home and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, realizing I’ve been looking like a shabby mess all day, my confidence can stoop instantly. Now there's another way to look at it and what's that ? Literally the fact that no matter how you look , if you believe you are your best self you'll feel your best . And Hey! this isn't just about looks.

What I’ve learned is this: insecurities only have as much power as we give them. The world can be cruel, but we have the choice to bounce back. It’s not about ignoring the negativity or pretending it doesn’t hurt it’s about acknowledging it and choosing to rise above it.

The Bigger Picture

What happened in the lift wasn’t just about one girl’s scars or another’s insecurities. It was a reflection of how deeply words and actions can affect us . We live in a world where people often point out flaws before noticing the strengths. It’s cruel, but it’s also a reality we have to face.

The key is to channel those feelings into something meaningful. Feeling bad is human, but letting that pain define you is a choice. 

The next time you feel insecure, pause and ask yourself: What’s really wrong with me? Chances are, you’ll find there’s more right with you than wrong. 

Because at the end of the day, we all have scars. Some are visible whereas some aren’t. But none of them make us less human, less beautiful, or less worthy of joy.

And if you ever see someone else struggling with their insecurities? Be the person who notices their cute pajamas.

That’s a wrap for today! I’d love to hear your thoughts or questions, drop your feedback in the comments or shoot me an email at 792004vidisha@gmail.com. Let’s keep the conversation going!