Hating Myself Quotes Novels & Stories

Love is everything. @Shybabe: I think the only essence of my life is to accept and be accepted. Every day, I wake up thinking I will accept myself, but I spend the rest of my day hating myself. I cannot look at myself in the mirror and stop hating what I see. I hate who I am. I hate what I look like. I hate what I’ve become. I just want to accept myself. Is that too much to ask?

Her latest message made me waver and I hated myself for it. "I hate you, Miracle Verity. I should have never met you."

I throw my arms around his neck and start crying while he rubs my back before kissing the top of my head. "I will not tell you to stop crying because I know how much hatred you have been keeping in your heart and mind for yourself so cry as much as you want. You need to love yourself first that's when others will love you back." This made me cry harder because whatever he is saying, is correct. I have always hated myself for being bad at everything, for not being able to get my father's love, for causing so many problems for others but mostly for my mother's death.

I mean, I was probably inside this chamber for just five minutes but it felt like the time extended to more than an hour. "What do you hate about yourself?" I blinked a few times because of that question. My mind went blank for a couple of seconds before I got the words to answer. "I hate myself for valuing the rankings, that I end up killing myself from pressure just to get on the top. I hate myself for always wanting what's grand and end up ignoring those little things that actually are more vital." A bitter smile spread on my lips. "I hate myself for following the stiff standards of society and for always thinking that everything is alright ... Leading myself to have a hard time accepting

I hated myself more than anyone else. I wished I could just stop being me~ Being Reah was sad and I hated it~

“Tell me again how much you hate me. Go on. Convince yourself.” “God, I hate you,” I whispered into the empty room, my voice shaking, breaking on the words as if they were glass shards in my mouth. “I hate you so much.” I rocked forward slightly, hugging my knees tighter to my chest, trying to make myself smaller, invisible. But the words felt hollow, even to me. Because beneath the hatred, there was something else—something dark and twisted that I couldn’t name, couldn’t admit. It was like a poison seeping into my veins, slow and insidious, making my skin flush anew just thinking about it.

I wanted to swim, no matter how much selfish it was. Closing my eyes, I put my hand over the pond with the heart thumping harder again and breath quickened. Their were times when you see a memory-horrible ones. They were like demons, gripping you, pushing you and never letting you win. They hated happiness. All they wanted was self pain. This was the moment. I hate you. You ruin my life. You made my video viral. Why being lesbian is such a ridicule and wrong in your eyes? You're a cold hearted bitch.

‘When I look at you, I hate what I see,’ my mother had said to me, ‘I hate the emptiness in your eyes, I hate the fact that you believe your life is over simply because ‘he’ isn’t in it. I couldn’t blame my mother for thinking that. I couldn’t even blame her if she hated me right now, because I hated myself too. “Seven months,” I thought to myself, “Is more than enough time to learn to stop loving.”

I hate crying. “I don’t like it,” I whisper. “I don’t like anyone near you. I don’t like anyone calling you theirs. Because every time they do… it feels like something is being stolen from me.” The words rush out now. Messy. Raw. “I know it’s stupid. I know we’re supposed to be ‘family.’ I know none of this makes sense. But I can’t stop it. I can’t stop wanting you. And I hate myself for it.” There.

Because she deserved to be stung. Not just an idiot. Not just stupid. But bad. I am bad. I am bad, and broken, and horrible, and I hate him and I hate myself and I want to die. It was a very, very dark plane ride.