It's quite hard to say what triggered me to believe that I wasn't worthy of something that kept me alive - food. I've always been the most average of the average of girls - short, average weight, average looks, blonde hair, blue eyes. And confident up until a point. People liked me. I liked people. But... that's obviously changed.

Seventh grade. The beginning of the year I had an awesome time. Parties that I thought were then cool but looking back, they were nerdy. Tons of friends. Nice guys. I was thin and normal and happy. A dancer, a soccer player. Just past the middle of the year, I became the person that everyone decides to hate for no apparent reason. I still don't know why all my best friends turned against me at that point... maybe I was an easy target. But then eighth grade hit, and I was put down more than ever. My looks, my weight (which was still average), anything that could be insulted, was. I remember one particular girl turning my entire soccer team against me, and to this day I still feel uncomfortable around them. I had a terrible time. I distinctly remember taking out my frustration on the back of my hand, scratching away my negative feelings. It was just how I dealt. But somehow I managed to push away all the mean people and accept the ones who are now my very best friends, and I got by. Barely. That year completely destroyed my sense of self, and the confidence I was left with was little to none.

By grade nine I was relatively normal. I didn't care about my weight, and it didn't affect me negatively. I was not popular, but I was not quite a loser. I was still slightly afraid of those who had previously tormented me. I was still blonde. I figured if I was nice to people, they'd probably be nice to me, and it worked. But there was still those subconscious messages of people trying to belittle me. I never forgot how they made me feel. And to this day my confidence has been at a low. Over the summer between ninth and tenth grade, I had an awesome time. I managed to push the negative comments from people to the back of my mind and just celebrated the vacation with my friends. I met new people, tried new things. It was great. But then there was grade ten...

I was still normal. But that was what bothered me. I wanted to be something - to stand out and be noticed, special, confident. First I cut my hair and dyed it dark brown. Sure, it was a change, but not enough. I wanted to change my body. Since people have caused me to feel little inside - why not look little outside as well? Ditch the average weight and be something that everyone would be jealous of. Small and dainty and bony and pretty. For a while it worked, but it destroyed me inside. Nothing was good enough. I was pushing myself away from everyone I loved and giving people a hard time. I got sick. Really sick.

Looking back at when I was thin, it upsets me that it was all for nothing. I've gained most of the weight back and I don't feel good about myself at all. So will I ever? I starved myself. I was not good enough for food. And it was all for nothing. Feeling little inside will always stick with me... maybe someday the outside will match. I'll never stop resenting the girls who are thin and perfect, and I'll never stop being wary of those who made me feel two inches tall.

It's not worth it.

-ellemalen

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