It’s the same with me.
My dad got me a gym membership on Valentine’s Day when I was 17. I was 5’4 and 125 lbs. When I was 12 he came back from a business trip and told me I looked like I’d gained 5 lbs. I had a normal kids body. I wasn’t even chubby. In middle school I tried to wear fun makeup like the other girls he said I didn’t need makeup and my natural hair was pretty. I shouldn’t be like the other girls. In my teenage years I would get this tensing of the shoulders and tight lipped reaction and coldness if I put colorful makeup on. Age 24 I wore bright red lipstick to a Jazz bar we were going to with my older brother. In the car on the way he said I looked like an escort. Every year I am reminded to eat healthy and sport is the most important. A lifetime of dieting. If he knows I’m dieting and so reach for a piece of cake, he side glances at me stomach down to butt and says “I thought you didn’t like sweets”.
He never approved of me wearing clothing or makeup that caught attention. But at the same time I was always signaled to be neat and watch my weight. Not be loud. Not emotional. Be “right”, do the “right thing” because “we aren’t like others”. He loved when his friends would compliment me. Almost like it was admiration for him.
When I’m living away from him I wear bright clothes and tops that don’t hide my chest (which I’ve learned to despise because it makes me look bigger). I would wear bright makeup.
Past three years I’ve spent near him and all I wear is black leggings, black sweaters that almost cover my butt and stopped wearing makeup. Any time I steer away from that I feel intense anxiety of potential attention and insecurity that I look like “one of those girls”.
I was so anxious about the male gaze I started binge eating in depression. Which made no one look at me and notice me - i felt safe but also despised myself. My weight meant I was beneath everyone according to my dads values. Shame spiral.
When I lost weight - I couldn’t make eye contact without first drinking alcohol - even with the grocery store checkout person. When drunk I would catch a males eye and there was this almost defiant rage running through me. It was the only time I could make eye contact.
I’ve been trying to work on my destroyed and male gaze dependent self esteem. It’s a battle between please don’t look at me - and deep insecurity if I’m unattractive.
An utter mindfuck.