"No one will ever want to date you."

One day in 8th grade, while waiting for my parents to pick me up, I was talking to my ex boyfriend and his group of friends. My ex and I had just broken up, but we were still on good terms. 

While we were all talking, my ex's brother interrupted us and said, "You're so ugly. No one will ever want to date you, besides my brother." 

I've always been bullied and called ugly, but it hurt even more coming from someone who actually knows who I am. 

I'm still not over the insecurities that came from middle and high school bullying. And I'm starting to think I never will be.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Throughout my entire elementary/middle/high school experience, I was bullied. If it wasn't my weight, it was my scars; if it wasn't those, it was something I said. The way I walked. Anything.

In grades 6 & 7, there was a specific group of kids that bullied me, and they had a ringleader. He was always the worst - he tried to start real, physical fights with my boyfriend at the time - and I was pretty tired of it, so I reported him.

Of course it only got worse. But the weird thing - the odd, wonderful thing - was that, a year after these incidents, he apologized. He sent me a message asking my forgiveness for all the things he'd said to me. 

And then, years later, in our junior year of high school, he really floored me: I was tired one day, and I decided to lie on the floor during lunch. He and his friends (the same group that had bullied me for so long) were standing across the hallway, talking amongst themselves. I was lying on the floor, my eyes closed, wondering if skipping class was worth my parents' anger, when someone touched my arm.

I looked up, and there he was. The kid who'd spent a good portion of our middle school years making my life miserable.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked. He looked sincere. His friend, another big bully, stood behind him, nodding. "Yeah, you okay?" He added.

It's stuck with me ever since, that a kid who was so awful to me and so many others could have such a huge change of heart.

They are my legs.

All my life, I've had bigger legs. I've always been self conscious of them, but I've tried not to let it get to me. I acted like I didn't care what people thought, and wore what was "in style," like short shorts. 

When I was 15, I had a huge crush on a boy, and I knew his feelings were mutual. We hung out alone a couple times, but I would never kiss him like he always wanted. 

He always teased me and compared me to another girl he used to date, saying that she wouldn't have a problem kissing him and that she wasn't so shy.

He also told me my legs weren't much to brag about.  

That little comment stuck in the back of my mind for years. 

I didn't want to wear average swimming bottoms anymore. I didn't want to wear shorter shorts anymore. There was a few years where I HATED my legs. I was so ashamed. And no matter how much I worked out, they never seemed to shrink.
 
I'm married now to a wonderful man (who loves my legs, I might add). Even though they aren't supermodel legs. He tells me they are beautiful and strong. 

You know what? They are. 

I started really getting into fitness, and my legs have actually grown! And I'm not ashamed. They are my legs, and I'm lucky to have them. 
 

Panda Ears

One day when I was 15, I was walking to school wearing my awesome panda ear headphones. It was very early, the sun was just barely rising, and a guy who was walking towards me stopped me and said, "I have something for you." Confused, I asked what. 

Out if his pocket, he pulled out a panda pin and said, "I just found this. I'm guessing it either belongs to you, or that I am meant to give it to you." 

I'm not sure why, but this made my entire day. I graciously took it and pinned it on my sweater. 

Years later, I still think about that morning, and it still makes me smile. :)
 

Surprise Lisp.

Freshman year of high school, I was super nervous about meeting new friends.

At lunchtime, I introduced myself to a cute boy.

I said "Hey I'm Kristen" and, instead of introducing himself to me, he mocked me by saying, "You're Krithten?"

I didn't even know I had a lisp until that moment.

Now I am acutely aware of and very self conscious of the way I sound when I talk.

Maybe that's why I don't talk often.

Dirty Shoes

I was a new student, just moved from the south side of town. At age seven, I had no idea what class was, or that I was in a different social class. 

A girl told me I was poor and that my shoes were dirty.

She bullied me and picked on me all the way until high school, making fun of the way I dressed.

I will never forget her. She made me feel terrible about myself. She taught me what "poor" meant.

"She must not even care"

One day in high school, I was riding the bus home. It was a peaceful ride. I was reading my book, as I normally did, and keeping to myself.

All of a sudden I heard these two boys, one my age one older, start talking about me. These boys knew nothing about me, other than the fact that I was overweight.

They started talking about how gross it was to look at me, how I must be eating all the time to look like that. Then one of them said something that cut worse and deeper than anything else they had said: "She must not even care that she looks like that."

With that, a single tear hit the page I had stopped on.

Before I could even turn around to defend myself from these verbal attacks, they stood up and got off the bus.

I was left there, young, impressionable, and hurt.

They never knew the impact their words made on me, and they never will.

"Big"

When I was in high school I wasn't attractive. I had fuzzy hair and acne. I had a pension for Marilyn Manson and black eyeliner. I wasn't trendy or popular. I didn't get asked out. I had average grades and excelled at seemingly nothing except science.

There were two stoner girls I always worked with in class. They were slim and pretty and nice enough. They liked me because I knew the answers and came up with the most interesting projects.

One day as I was walking into school I overheard them talking about me to someone in my class that, unsurprisingly, didn't know my name. They described me with the usual descriptors I was used to: fuzzy hair, goth.

But then they added in one that was new: big.

I took it to heart because it was a new jab, a new problem.

I confronted them later, and they explained that they meant no harm, as I am nearly 6 feet tall.

But my life from that point on revolved around my weight.

I ate 600 calories a day and worked out 3 hours a day for nearly 4 years. I spent the entirety of my adult life struggling with my weight.

I'm 30 now. I've been in and out of treatment. I don't know if I'll ever be all right with myself.

Girls Like Me

The night I was raped, my rapist told me, "To girls like you, no means yes."

This has stuck with me, because in a way its true. But not the way he meant it. 

Every time a teacher told me I wasn't smart enough, I studied harder and longer so I could tell her, "Yes I am."

When I was told I would never advance at work, I improved my numbers to prove to my boss that, "Yes I could."

So I guess he was right.
To girls like me, no means yes.
 

"But you're still pretty"

One day during my senior year of high school, I woke up late for school and came in with no eye makeup on. A girl who sat in front of me in class said, "You're not wearing any makeup?" I said no, and she replied, "But you're still pretty." 

She said it with such disbelief and question in her voice, like she couldn't understand why I wasn't ugly. 

It made me feel so awkward and uncomfortable. Seven years later it still comes to my mind.