Quotes About Insecurity

She had perfect skin, so free of blotches or wrinkles, her face so perfect and character-free she could have just popped out of the womb. They all seemed unfinished. I wanted them to go away.

She was a worst-case scenarist on a grand scale. Because it was never just that the door was unlocked, it was that the door was unlocked, and men were inside, and they were waiting to rape and kill her.

I remember always being baffled by other children. I would be at a birthday party and watch the other kids giggling and making faces, and I would try to do that too, but I wouldn't understand why. I would sit there with the tight elastic thread of the birthday hat parting the pudge of my underchin, with the grainy frosting of the cake bluing my teeth, and I would try to figure out why it was fun. With Nick, I understood finally. Because he was so much fun. It was like dating a sea otter.

He promised to take care of me, and yet I feel afraid. I feel like something is going wrong, very wrong, and that it will get even worse. I don't feel like Nick's wife. I don't feel like a person at all: I am something to be loaded and unloaded, like a sofa or a cuckoo clock. I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.

I've basically turned into Liza Minnelli: I'm dancing in tights and sequins, begging you to love me.

I just figured you'd be too proud. Self-conscious and proud." I was a rather nasty cocktail of both those traits

I put on a skirt and blouse for the meeting, feeling dwarfy, my grown up, big-girl clothes never quite fitting. I'm barely five foot -- four foot, ten inches in truth, but I round up. Sue me. I'm thirty-one, but people tend to talk to me in singsong, like they want to give me fingerpaints.

I'm here, I said, and it felt shockingly comforting, those words. When I'm panicked, I say them aloud to myself. I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am. I feel like a warm gust of wind could exhale my way and I'd be disappeared forever, not even a sliver of fingernail left behind. On some days, I find this thought calming; on others it chills me. My

I remember always being baffled by other children. I would be at a birthday party and watch the other kids giggling and making faces, and I would try to do that too, but I wouldn't understand why.

of me, and yet I feel afraid. I feel like something is going wrong

I really believe Nick will come after me. I turn toward the house and see only a closed door.

When I'd wanted attention, I'd submitted myself to boys: Do what you want; just like me. Amma's sexual offerings seemed a form of aggression. Long skinny legs and slim wrists and high, babied voice, all aimed like a gun. Do what I want; I might like you.

of all this?" Gilpin

I've been tracking Nick's moods. Toward me. Just to make sure I'm not crazy. I've got a calendar, and I put hearts on any day Nick seems to love me again, and black squares when he doesn't.

Normally, Richard was the kind of guy I disliked, someone born and raised plush: looks, charm, smarts, probably money. These men were never very interesting to me; they had no edges, and they were usually cowards. They instinctively fled any situation that might cause them embarrassment or awkwardness.

He has given me exactly ten Fritos and then secreted away the bag. He doesn't like the smell; it offends him, he says, but what he really doesn't like is my weight.

You were the best man you've ever been with me. And you know it. The only time in your life you've ever liked yourself was pretending to be someone I might like. Without me? You're just your dad.

Susan Burke was silent for a few beats. Then: "My life is falling apart," she murmured. She was extremely pretty but so wary and nervous you didn't realize she was pretty until you looked hard at her.

Why in God's name do you even want to be with me? I'm boring, average, uninteresting, uninspiring. I'm not up to par. You spent the last few years telling me this.' 'Only because you stopped trying,' I say. 'You were so perfect, with me. We were so perfect when we started, and then you stopped trying. Why would you do that?

A veces me pregunto si esa es la raíz de su desprecio por mí: permite que vea sus defectos y me odia por conocerlos.

Amy was absolutely beautiful. I hated her. I was afraid of her.

We just want you to be happy...but they never explained how...I remember always being baffled by other children. I would be at a birthday party and watch the other kids giggling and making faces, and I would try to do that too, but I wouldn't understand why.

It had turned me into a knee-jerk suckup to authority. Mom, Dad, teachers: Whatever makes your job easier, sir or madam. I craved a constant stream of approval. 'You'd literally lie, cheat, and steal – hell, kill – to convince people you are a good guy,' Go once said.

It's probably the reason I'm a second-rate journalist. One of them, at least.