I have never liked my body. Ever. I wish I could pinpoint the moment where I realised my thighs were touching or that my stomach protruded slightly; but I can’t. I have never liked my body

I remember on my 8th birthday party I had some friends over and we swam in the pool, I had a bikini on and in every single picture my Mum had took my arm was plastered across my stomach; in an attempt to cover up what I thought to be “fat”.

7 years later. I now hate my body. I am nearly 16, I have passed the “puberty weight loss” phase. I’m not going to sprout, or get skinny or anything like that. So often I see girls who suddenly lose their puppy fat when they hit a certain age, they get skinny. Not me. I sit alone in my room, crying myself to sleep over my pathetic excuse of a body. I’m not curvy or voluptuous like Kate Upton or Sophia Vergara I’m just the fat girl.

I’m a size 10. Some may call it “healthy”. But when I look in the mirror the fat pathetic person I see disgusts me, and I don’t understand how someone else could look at me and see something more than that