When I was 8 my father told me that I will never be able to ‘choose’ my boyfriends, that I would always have to date whoever it is that would want to date me.
When I was 9 I heard a boy from another class comment on our school photo saying I was ugly because I was fat. It happened again at 13.
When I was 11 almost the entire classroom sang me a song about how I should workout more and lose weight.
When I was 12 I was told by my uncle to start smoking, maybe then I’d stop eating.
When I was 14 I cried to my mom telling her I can’t take the comments anymore, she told me to lose the weight then.
When I was 17 my aunt said all her nieces were pretty… if only I’d “take care of my weight.”
Now, at 19, I’ve been struggling with self-harm and self-destructing thoughts for about 8 years. That means it all started around 11. A little to early for a girl to start hating her body to the point of literally harming it, don’t you think?
So don’t tell me I should love my family just because they are family.
Don’t tell me your comments come from a place of concern.
Don’t tell me fat-phobia isn’t real. It is. And it almost killed me…