Fat Cat

One time in third grade, a girl spat gum on me at recess and said, "No boy will ever like you because you look like a fat cat!"

This has never left me, and I have never liked cats since.
 

"Fat girls don't get boyfriends."

When I was in middle school, my mom told me that I was "a fat girl" and that "fat girls don't have friends, and they certainly don't get boyfriends." 

Small 12 year old me truly took her words to heart and developed a severe case of anorexia due to what she said. I'm now 23, and I have been battling the eating disorder ever since. I also have an intense fear of gaining weight and suffer from extreme depression if I do gain any weight. 
 

"All the weight"

My mom was dating this guy a while back, and he brought us up north to meet his family. His dad was an awful person, to put it nicely. 

As my brother and in were waiting in the car to leave, he came over to say goodbye. He stood at my window, looked inside at me, and yelled to my mom's boyfriend, "No wonder you have a flat tire, all the weight's on this side of the car!" 

I was barely 13.
 

"Hey, so I'm sorry about the other night."

I can't remember anything about our night together. I just remember waking up in my dorm room, covered in bruises, my lamp on the floor with the shade crushed in, clothes scattered on my floor, and me, alone in my room, knowing that I had not been alone the night before. 

It took me almost 30 minutes to remember the last place I had been: a frat house that I frequented with my friends. We had gone there the night before to play beer pong with brothers at the frat. I had partnered up with a guy I knew, but did not know well. The last thing I could recall was his face hovering over mine in the darkness of my room.

The next day, I did not know what to do. My friends laughed it off as yet another one of my escapades. I was shaken, but managed to get through the day okay. Until I got a message at 2:39 AM the next night from that guy. That guy. It simply said:

"Hey, so I'm sorry about the other night. I was a little more aggressive than I normally am, so I apologize."

My heart raced. I wanted to vomit. I heard a roaring in my ears. 

I still don't know what exactly happened that night. I never asked. I don't really want to know. But I remember the bruises, and I remember the fear. I remember the single, simple apology that said so much and yet told me so little about what happened.

"You're really smart for an ugly girl!"

When I was 10 or 11, my class split up into groups and competed to see which group could put a puzzle together the fastest. I essentially finished our group's puzzle on my own, and the boy I was working with said, "You're really smart for an ugly girl!"

It took me a long time to get over this. 

Pretty Melanie

I attended a small Christian elementary school with only eleven students in my class. Out of six girls, there were two Melanies. I was the tall, chubby Melanie. The other Melanie was like a golden, perfect swan. 

In 5th grade, we all participated in a track and field event, and everyone started rooting for "Pretty Melanie." 

I spent the next 15 years battling eating disorders.
 

Olive Oyl

My mom always pointed out everything that was beautiful about all of my friends, but she always called me Olive Oyl because I was skinny and uncoordinated.

"No one will find that attractive."

My style has always been a bit alternative. Even after having my daughter at 18, I kept my look. Pink and black hair, a tattoo (planned to get more), piercings (also planning for more), the works. I had a dream of becoming an alternative model, which I thought was the epitome of beautiful. When I was 19, I had a set plan. I was going to polish myself up a bit and send in some shots. 

My husband at the time told me I was crazy, and that, "No one's going to want to look at your half naked, post baby body. No one will find that attractive. I find it attractive because I love you." 

That hurt me so bad, I cried myself to sleep that night. 

I eventually divorced that ass, and now, eight years later, I've never been happier.
 

"You're always eating!"

I so clearly remember the day that I started self-hating that it almost hurts to think about.

I had eaten a stupid chocolate bar that my mom had been saving to eat later. It wasn't the first time I'd done this. She walked in to the kitchen and yelled, "What the hell are you eating now?! You're always eating! You're too fat! You need to go on a diet!" 

Now, two years later, I have depression and anxiety, although she (along with the rest of my family) has failed to realize it. Every time I look in a mirror, the only thing running through my head is that stupid comment made by my own mother.

Please think about what you say to your kids. They remember every word you say to them, even when you don't.
 

My Nose

When I was 15, I was unamused by Beyonce's Super Bowl performance, so I posted a picture on Tumblr with a comment about how she was dressed like a hoe or something like that. I don't even know, it's been years, and I don't really have the same mindset anymore. 

A famous blog found it, posted it, and I got thousands of death threats in the course of 2 days. Funnily enough, the death threats weren't what bothered me. When people weren't attacking my statement, they started attacking everything they knew about me. One person told me my nose was huge and ugly. 

Prior to this, I had never seen anything wrong with my nose. It looked like a normal nose to me. Then, it was like, bam. Every day all I've ever been able to see is how big my nose is. How ugly it is. Even four years later, I look back at pictures I took then and notice that they were angled differently because I apparently didn't know what an ugly nose I had. 

Looking back now it's really surprising to me that I still carry that hatred for my nose. It's not crooked or hooked or anything (which is perfectly normal and sometimes beautiful for noses) but I am still, to this day, really self conscious about my nose. That's what stuck with me, I guess.