Mental illnesses and insecurities are having the best of me

As an adolescent, I was obese, and I lived those years in a state of near self-imposed isolation. The insecurities that still linger within me prevented me from engaging in formative experiences, both socially and romantically. Now, at twenty-three, I have not even shared something as simple as a first kiss.

For a long time, I believed I was at peace with my solitude (or at least I convinced myself of it). With time, however, I have come to recognize that aspects of my personality, as well as my past obesity, functioned as defense mechanisms shaped by various traumas and by the profound insecurities that continue to weigh on me. I have been in therapy for several months, and I have lost a significant amount of weight, though I now struggle with binge eating disorder, and I have regained roughly a third of what I had lost in 2024. My relationship with food remains far from healthy.

I have achieved several important milestones: I completed my degree and secured employment, albeit in a position I find only mildly fulfilling. Yet I still struggle to feel at ease among others. I believe it is natural at my age, or simply as a human being, to desire experiences related to intimacy and emotional connection. In this regard, I have attempted to put myself out there, primarily through dating applications. I suspect that initiating connections in person would be even more difficult for me, though I am also uneasy with the sense of commodification these platforms seem to impose upon individuals.

I do receive a fair number of matches, yet most come from significantly older individuals. When I do match with people closer to my age, or with those whose character I find genuinely appealing, I find myself unable to believe that they could truly be interested in me. Naturally, I have selected my best photographs for my profile. However, when I move, my nose, my chin, my body... everything seems to take on a different form.And yet, in those photographs where I appear at my best, I feel just as authentically myself as I am in the countless images and videos in which I perceive myself as grotesque, orc like, my father in a wig.

I have tried, on multiple occasions, to ignore this inner voice. Inevitably, after a few days, my insecurities prevail. I delete the application and attempt to persuade myself that I am content in solitude, that “if something is meant to happen, it will.” Of course, nothing happens.