Day 18: My biggest insecurity

Sadly, this one was easy.

But before you read any further, I want you to understand that this isn't a pity party.  I'm happy with myself and my life. I had a wonderful childhood/adolescence.  I just wish my perspective had been better.

I have always been the "fat girl."  In my head, at least.  Back before "body image" was even a concept, I firmly believed I was the heaviest person in the room.  This didn't start with puberty, either.  I don't ever remember not feeling fat.  I think it started when I was 8.  I had always been at least a head taller than almost everyone else in my grade. I was 5'7" in 6th grade.

The absolute most horrific days of school for me were the days when we were weighed and measured in front of God and everybody.  It didn't occur to me that being six inches taller would cause me to weigh more.  I just remember coming home with my report card at the end of the year and my mom freaking out because of how much weight I gained.  I'm not blaming her at all--but let's just say I get it honest.  I also remember asking the nurse to not say my weight out loud.

If you're a boy, you're probably not going to understand this post even a little bit. 

I remember my lunches in high school almost always consisted of some sort of weight loss bar or shake or a salad or whatever weight loss fad was going on at the time.  I went to dieticians and Weight Watchers and aerobics.  Some things worked; others, not so much. It didn't matter that the nutrionist and Weight Watchers told me I only needed to lose 5-10 pounds.  They were obviously using the wrong scale.

I remember one of my "friends" getting mad at me for something and calling my a "fat cow."  I remember nothing else about that day, but I remember exactly where I was standing at that moment.

I remember being in a dressing room and overhearing a conversation two other people were having about my size.  They didn't know I heard, and they weren't trying to be mean.  But I wanted to crawl under the floor.

Thank God I was blessed with wonderful friends.  Those people made me feel beautiful no matter what.  I never sat home on Saturday night by myself.  I never felt alone or unloved.  I basically had the best friends ever.

By the time I was a senior, I had pretty much learned to accept myself for who I was, how I looked, and be happy with it. But at the same time, I remember a moment during that same year, when Homecoming nominees were announced.  I wasn't one of them, and it honestly had never entered my mind that I would be.  But as we were walking to class, one of my guy friends said something about being surprised that I wasn't nominated.  I just laughed and said, "I guess nobody thought I was pretty enough." 

He replied, "I did."

Now, this guy was never ever more than a good buddy of mine, but at that moment I wanted to kiss him square on the lips.  He made my day (year? decade?) with those two words.

Looking back, I wish I could've seen myself more realistically.  I wish I could've had more confidence in my appearance and appreciated the compliments rather than wondering who in the world they were talking to. I still struggle with my weight and how I must look to other people.  But I'm working on it.