"HAHAHA, fattie."
Those were the words of my bestfriend. At first I didn't care, I was underweight and I knew it. But she kept saying stuff like that to me. Eventually, I took it to heart. I'd skip lunch or just have an apple for lunch. I never felt good about myself, and hated my body. One day, we were checking our weight during gym. Me and my bestfriend were comparing out weight, and it turns out, she was only two pouds lighter than me (and we are the same height). So I told her she could stop calling me fat, since we were nearly the same weight, and you know what she says? "Yeah, but it all goes to your thighs." Yes, My own bestfriend. So then I do everything in my human power to tone my thighs, skip lunch all together and eat only a small dinner. Work out two or three hours a day. I try everything. None of it seems good enough, though, so I cry myself to sleep because I know that I'm fat and ugly. Eventually, I start to harm myself. Nothing big, I didn't cut very often. I kept a rubber band around my wrist and slapped myself with it whenver I felt down or hungry. Sometimes I'd have brusies or burns, but that didn't matter because no one saw. I didn't go out for lunch. I stayed in the library, behind a bunch of bookshelves, where no one could see me. One day, one of my friends asked if I was aneorexic. I said no, I couldn't be since I was too fat. Later, I told that friend that I wasn't feeling good, and I vented with him. And you know what he does? Infornt of my own freaking face, he goes and tells EVERYONE everything I'd said to him. He twists my words. People laugh at me. It hurt. I still haven't forgiven him. I never will. After a few months of hiding in the library, my friends pull me out, and we spend lunch together. That lunch, I met new people and soon, I had a new group of friends - old friends and new ones. We had lots of fun together, and I began eating a peice of fruit for lunch. Soon enough, I brought my own lunch from home, though it wasn't very big. At first, these friends were amazing, but soon, the group fell apart. One of my 'friends' and I were waling and talking with a few guys. And all of a sudde, she's like, "Hey, Brandon, why don't you lift Sophie up?'. out of the blue. The guy laughs and says, "HAHA, no, she's too heavy." Everyone erupts into laughter. Then he looks me in the eyes and says, "I'm kidding, really." Well. I still took it to heart. And I tried eating less. And less. And eventually, I fell back into my old habbits. I don't know what got me eating again, but people, people who acctually cared about me, kept being really sweet to me, complimenting my bod, face and personality. I began eating again, and triend to get healthy, and cut off junk foods. I felt good. Later, at my friends house, my bestfriend and I were talking to a few other people about weight and stuff. My bestfriend tells me that I'm not fat. That very moment was when I decided I can't take what others say to heart. I can only feel good about myself, beacuse people suck. people's opions don't matter if I feel good about myself. Which I sort of do, now. Moral of the story? Don't take anything anyone says seriously. You're perfect the way you are.
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