It was 3rd grade and while all my friends were skinny, I was chubby. Look at you, they’re so much thinner than you, better than you.
6th grade people became vocal about my differences. Pointing out that I had more meat on my bones and that I wasn’t as small as my friends. So my monster got louder. Listen to them, they’re right. You’re disgusting.
7th grade it worsened. It’s like people knew how much I worried about my weight. The comments got harsher and my monster got stronger. Don’t eat that, pig. You can skip lunch today, you don’t need it, everyone else can tell you don’t need it.
High school came and my monster was louder than my own voice. Skinny is pretty. You are not pretty. Look at your stomach, and your thighs. God damn you’re pathetic. How can anyone love you looking like that?! Look around, you’re a sick joke of what beauty is.
I hated myself. My mirror became a fear that I couldn’t face because I knew it would end in tears and it would fuel the monster even more. Positive words like beautiful weren’t in my vocabulary when talking about myself, only negative ones. Fat. Ugly. Pig. Disgusting. Overweight.
But something changed in me, I don’t know what it was. Maybe I was exhausted, from spending day after day fighting this thing that shouldn’t have any control over me. Maybe it was the media, slowly showing more girls that looked more like me.
Whatever it was I am so grateful because after that, I started fighting back.
A size 8?! You make me sick. Size 0 is beautiful and you are far from that.
Every size is beautiful, I wasn’t meant to be that small and that is okay.
Your face is chubby, you should do something about that sweetie.
I’ve had chubby cheeks since birth, they make me, me. So no thanks.
How can someone love you like that?
By loving every piece of me, not just my external features, but my internal ones too.
Disgusting.
Beautiful.
Why don’t you look like that?
Because they look like them and I look like me, and I am my own definition of beauty.
It took a while, in fact my monster still shows up some days, but not as often as he used to. He’s not as loud anymore, and I’ve found so many amazing things about myself that he never allowed me to. How much I love my smile and how my eyes crinkle up. How my thighs may be big, but my curves are a part of who I am. How my stomach is just a stomach and that doesn’t define my worth.
We all deserve to have self-love and not have a monster controlling out thoughts and happiness. You are beautiful because you are you. Every flaw you see is something someone else loves about you. Embrace who you are and don’t compare yourself to others.