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I have been obsessed with my body for as long as I can remember. As a little kid, my mom went to a dietitian because I was heavier than the average kid my age. I ate the same things as my mother and little brother; still, I was the heavier one. Everyone always told me to watch what I eat. As years went by, my self-esteem worsened to a point where I barely ate at all.
My stupid 12-year-old self thought it would help me get skinnier, but because I didn't eat at school and barely finished my piece of bread in the morning, I was so hungry after school that I just ate whatever I could find at home. Yes, 12-year-olds are idiots, of course I would never lose weight this way. My body went into survival mode due to the lack of vitamins and calories, and then the sudden amount of calories and fat made that I just gained weight.
When I started high school, this had gotten so horrible that I didn't eat when I woke up, I didn't eat in the eight hours I was at school, and when I got home, I didn't eat much either. My first year in high school wasn't the best. I barely had any friends. Loneliness was my best friend. I started eating the loneliness away, which made me hate myself more than I already did. I could stand in front of the mirror, fully clothed, wanting to cut every ugly thing about me, which was about 80 percent of my body.
What still surprises me is that I never did. I always said it was because of my mom and little brother, that I couldn't do that to them, but if I think about it now five years later. The real reason why I never did was because I was scared. I was scared that my body couldn't take it. I was hurting a lot already with loneliness, sadness, fast food, and hate. I was scared that if I would do that to my body as well, it would just give up. About one and a half years ago I reached my heaviest point. I was thinking about just giving up. I couldn't even win the fight with the fast food. How could I ever win the other fights going on in my mind?
Then one day it all changed, we moved (something I was so scared of for months). I got into a new school. Away from every bad memory, every bad influence in my old town. Since that moment, I felt suddenly home. I felt happy. I hadn't been happy like this in so long. I felt so good that I actually started losing weight. Not a lot because I was still alone a lot and I still barely ate, but bit by bit, I got better. In only a few months, I lost more weight than in the four and a half years before. I reached a point where I started to be more okay with how I look. Although I still don't love it. I still want to be like all of those super skinny super models.
I just finally accepted I will never look that way, but I can try my fucking hardest to come close to it. So one thing I learned on these five years is that it takes time and effort to accept who you are. Also, you can't do it alone. You need people who love you to help you in the process. Sure, sometimes I still cry in front of the mirror, sometimes I still want to cut every piece of fat of my body, and sometimes I'll still binge eat, but I know I am getting there.