I was a bony kid, up until maybe 3rd grade, and then I started to put on weight. Fast. My mother found this absolutely unacceptable, and would make me ride her exercise bike. She would literally stand by with a yardstick so that she could hit me if I stopped.

To this day, almost 17 years later, the memory still makes me sick.

I have always been chubby. I went to a private middle school and high school on scholarship and for some reason rich people = skinny (90% of the time). So I was surrounded by rich skinny girls and at sleep overs I couldn't play dress up with any of their clothes.
My doctor, the father of a boy at my school, would tell me every visit from age 8 to 18 that I needed to lose weight and once when I was 12 he gave me a diet plan I was supposed to follow. Now I know I was chubby but I was not one of those obese kids, and even if I was, I was a kid! Kids are allowed to be chubby, anyone is allowed to be chubby!
Thankfully my mother encouraged me to be healthy, not skinny. Today I am healthy but I am still a bit chubby, it happens. I've come to be able to look in the mirror and really see someone beautiful.

When I was 13, my best friend got herself a boyfriend. For reasons that escape me now, his friend (we'll call him K) and I struck up a friendship via text despite having never met. When we *did* meet one day when we all went out together for the first time, he seemed different than his messages but I put it down to nerves.

It was a week later that my best friend's boyfriend (may I say, against my best friend's wishes) showed me a text K had sent him: "Didn't like Tash at all. I mean come on, if I went out with her I'd have to put a paper bag over her head!!"

It just totally shattered my image of myself - I went from never really thinking about my looks to feeling as if I was ugly and worthless. At 13. It has taken eight years and two wonderful relationships to get to a place where I don't get incredibly upset thinking about that comment. I've realised now that he was the one with the problem, not me.

Two memories come to mind - Having always been tall and relatively skinny , I started gaining a bit of weight when I was about 15/16 years old. My mom started to harangue me about the weight and would comment on what I ate, how much of it I ate, etc. I just stopped eating lunch at that point and ended up losing some of the poundage Of course, for years after that, mom would be all "you're too skinny." There was no pleasing the woman. Finally, I told her to lay off and not mention my weight again.

My other memory, also regarding dear old mom, was once I said that I was a beautiful woman at the dinner table (lord knows what the conversation was about,) she criticized me for having said it, that I should be more humble.

I'm lucky I was able to see past the criticism and realize she said all that as a reflection on how she felt about herself and her comparison of herself to me.

Probably when my mom told me that because I am short and "cute but not pretty", I would always need to be thin and toned. Also all of the times when my mom has told me I need to wear more makeup, straighten my hair, and dress in a "more feminine" way.

There is NOTHING worse than your own mother saying things like that. When I have a daughter, I will never give her anything but positive feedback about her appearance and her personal style. No one should EVER pass their own insecurities on to their children.

I was a chubby preteen. When I was 10, a boy in my class said as I was walking by, "The floor shakes when you walk." Considering that I remember that one, tiny little moment in my young life, I suppose it set up me pretty well for years of yo-yo dieting and a lifetime of trying to learn how to be comfortable with my body. Sad, but true.

I was always the tallest girl in my class and thought nothing of it until my 10th grade gym teacher called me "stork" one day during a tennis game. To this day it makes me nervous to wear heels and tower over the boys and other girls even!

I got picked on mercilessly in high school for being "fat". Looking at pictures, and looking at the clothes I wore then, I was far from - I'm now about 40 lbs bigger than I was then, and wear a size 14. At the time, though, I was absolutely convinced they were right. Blah.

When I started CEGEP here in Quebec (2 years between high school and university), my dad and I ran into a girl I had known as a child. She was fantastic - incredibly outgoing, super-friendly and very nice, and just overall social. Once she had left, my dad described her as “having the social skills that you and I both lack”. That description just stuck with me, for years… at the time, it was true that my social skills weren’t incredibly developed, but, to be fair, being the victim of general school bullying for over 10 years make it fairly difficult for a child to develop any social skills.

Oddly enough, though, I continued thinking of myself as having no social skills... until, last week, I wanted to have a picnic, and got together 23 people on less than 5 hours notice. All are friends. And then I looked at my life, and (finally!) realized that I have a huge group of friends, and several very close friends, that I go out, that I have a large number of business contacts, that my job depends on social skills, that I date regularly (and casually, and that the people I am interested in tend to be interested right back…) and that, really, I should stop thinking of myself as being the fat, ugly teenager with no social skills. Easier said than done, but wow, what a realization!

I just can’t believe that I’ve basically wasted the last 10 years thinking of myself that way. For crying out loud...

I was a "late developer" - tiny but gangly until I was about 15. While I had plenty of support from my parents to enjoy being a kid, at school, I was hyper-aware that other girls were tanning, shaving, and had much larger breasts than I did.

Of course, the other kids noticed this too, and I was mocked all through middle school and into high school. Classmates called me "whitey" because I was so fair-skinned or "pointy" because my chest was so under-developed. I walked around school drawn into myself, hoping no one would notice me.

These days, thanks to my parents continued encouragement and a few great relationships, I love my body and it's curves and creaminess. In fact, I think I get the last laugh because I did eventually "blossom" and I've got a great set of breasts and skin that has yet to see a wrinkle.

For me, it was some time early in high school.

Back story: I've played softball since I was 5 years old. For almost as long, I've been a catcher, and have the thigh muscles that result from playing that position.

Anyway, I went to high school in a town very similar to Stepford (and 95% of the moms were Stepford Wives) and in my high school, anything over a 4 was considered "fat" unless you were at least 5'10". Not a good start. So here I am, a size 8-wearing athlete, and once, I was wearing my field hockey uniform to school on a game day, and I heard an off-handed comment from a few guys during class that "some girls shouldn't be allowed to wear skirts" and then some muttering about thunder thighs. I pretty much knew they meant me.

I try pretty hard to own my body and love it for what it is. I do wear a smaller size now, (though I lost the weight through a pretty nasty digestive infection...I think I'm too skinny sometimes) but I've still got the catcher's thighs, and sometimes it bugs me. I know it shouldn't, but every so often I hear that in my head.

I don't think we ever really get over the awkward teenager thing.

My skin broke in elementary school. I remember my mom and dad inspecting my face, saying "It can't be acne, she's too young.."

I remember before my first day of middle school MY DAD BROUGHT OUT SOME MAKE UP AND PUT IT ON MY PIMPLES! I had never even thought to put on make up at that point. If I wasn't self conciouss about my acne before he did that, I certainly was after. I started wearing A LOT of make up after that, which I didn't stop doing until college, which probably made my skin worse.

I was lectured by him about eating chocolate and what soap I used to wash my face (and how I washed my face) like it was MY FAULT I WAS UGLY. Like if I would just buy and use the right product with enough discipline I would be, as the commercials say "clean and clear and under control" instead of how he saw me as dirty, blemished and out of control.

Kids at school weren't better. I remember I guy I liked in middle school singing "Donna the two timing hussy has a very shiny nose and if you look real closely you can even see one explode" to the tune of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. Guys would put their hands over my face and say that if they put a bag on my head they'd want to sleep with me. It sucked.

I always tried my best in sports, but being average height with about 30 extra pounds in high school I always adapted my game to fit my strengths. That meant I was a bit of a beast. Freshman year of high school I met my male friend in gym class and he let me know that I would be proud of him for being a good friend. Apparently all the guys in the locker room before class were talking about how I was a "man," and, instead of joining in he said nothing.

Yeh, right. A real friend would have stood up for me.

I've spent the next 6 years absolutely obsessed with making sure I choose feminine clothing and wear makeup despite knowing it's all bullshit.

Another time a 5 year old girl asked me if I was pregnant. That sure stuck with me.

What's funny is my body has been criticized on both sides of the spectrum. Apparently I'm too manly and too shapely at the same time. There's no middle ground.

There were two boys on my junior high bus coming home who would go through the bus and mercilessly tease just about anyone they considered uncool. Most days, those kids would get off the bus crying.

I had decided if they ever picked on me, I'd ignore them. The day they decided on me, I was wearing a red sleeveless shirt (and strawberry dangle earrings). I've always been athletic and muscular and at the time, was playing softball which bulked up my arms a bit. When I crossed my arms and looked out the window as they teased me, they went on and on about how big my arms were. They said I looked like "Rambo's daughter."

I didn't start wearing sleeveless tops again until after I graduated college.

If you ever want to hate your body, take ballet.

I took ballet (and two other kinds of dance--you had to take all three to take one, even though I really only wanted to take tap) as a kid and while my "student" teachers as a kid were pretty nice, when I got to about middle school age and was taking from the lady who ran the dance company, it got ... bad. A lot of the "you'd be beautiful if you'd just lose weight" kinds of comments, and suddenly I could do NOTHING right. So while the previous teachers all thought I was wonderful, this woman basically looked at me and my squishy middle and said I couldn't be a dancer.

I also got some comment from my mom that, "Your father said if you'd just lose 10 pounds you'd be gorgeous." To this day I don't know if he said it, because she likes to deliver messages "from" people that are from no one but herself. But ... it hurt.

When I finally did lose a ton of weight from culture change, a bit of a tweak in eating habits (no soda) and illness on top of it, it went from "you should lose weight" to "OMG ANOREXIA!!" Especially my brother, who when I was 145 told my mom he was worried I was too fat, and when I was 110, worried I was too thin. (How about worrying about yourself??)

It's weird. It feels like other people think they own my weight. I've never had a positive comment about my body at any size.

I have trichotillomania, which means I compulsively pull out my hair. In high school it was so bad I had bald and thin spots. The day I realized my hair had grown back enough for me to wear it down in public was the day I started to love the way I look.

May I rant briefly?

Margaret Cho says "I have these little rituals of being very fastidious about my skin care and drinking a lot of water, and I see the results. When we care for ourselves, these are acts of love."

I totally agree with her that we should be doing everything in our power to make us feel beautiful. However, I get frustrated with her comment about skin care. I'm glad that she can use that to make herself feel better about herself. But at the same time, it seems like she's equating taking care of your skin with having "good", clear, blemish-free skin. As a person with pretty severe acne, I am "fastidious" about my skin care, and it doesn't give me "good" skin. I guess I just want to put out there that you can be doing everything to take care of yourself, and you still might not show it.

Or maybe I'm just overreacting and she meant she sees the results in her self-image...

In 6th grade, I hit puberty. At the beginning of the school year, I got a short hair cut (hair went to my jaw line). Unfortunately, because of puberty, my hair started changing from bone straight to wavy (and now it is super curly). Because I had the hair cut, my hair was "poofy". So of course, the older friend of the boy I liked called my hair poofy and laughed at me. After that, I wore my hair tied back in a bun for 10 years. Now, I wear my hair down almost every day. Thank god for inexpensive, effective hair care products (Sunsilk, yay!).

May I rant briefly?

Margaret Cho says "I have these little rituals of being very fastidious about my skin care and drinking a lot of water, and I see the results. When we care for ourselves, these are acts of love."

I totally agree with her that we should be doing everything in our power to make us feel beautiful. However, I get frustrated with her comment about skin care. I'm glad that she can use that to make herself feel better about herself. But at the same time, it seems like she's equating taking care of your skin with having "good", clear, blemish-free skin. As a person with pretty severe acne, I am "fastidious" about my skin care, and it doesn't give me "good" skin. I guess I just want to put out there that you can be doing everything to take care of yourself, and you still might not show it.

Or maybe I'm just overreacting and she meant she sees the results in her self-image...

I had a different body image problem. All the women in my family have ridiculously fast metabolisms until we have our first kid. When I was younger, I was super skinny no matter how much I was eating. Keeping weight on was a huge struggle - my mom would make me milk shakes for breakfast and I had rules from my doctor about how much protein I needed. None of it ever made me gain enough weight to hide my ribs.

So, of course, rumors started about eating disorders. I was 9 the first time someone asked me if I were anorexic. By high school, I was eating massive amounts of junk food in front of people to prove I wasn't anorexic, and pointedly staying in the room for an hour after to quell the bulimia rumors.

The superfast metabolism is gone now, and I miss it. But I've never forgotten having to justify my skinniness, and feeling awful about being different.

Lizzy:
I was always the tallest girl in my class and thought nothing of it until my 10th grade gym teacher called me "stork" one day during a tennis game. To this day it makes me nervous to wear heels and tower over the boys and other girls even!

I was always the tallest girl (and pretty close to the tallest person, regardless of gender) in my class, even in grade school. I was teased non-stop from about 3rd grade until graduation. Good to hear the kids aren’t as bad as when I was in school, but the gym teacher?!?! Gah, what a douche. Although, I am 35 years old and strangers still feel the need to randomly comment. They seem to think they are so very original with their comments – as if I had no idea I was tall until they pointed it out.

It took awhile to shrug off years and years of teasing, but now, I embrace my unusual height (minus the difficulty finding well-fitting clothing, but that’s getting easier). I cannot imagine being shorter. I even wear heels as high as 4”; yeah, they make me 6’5”, but only asshats care to comment about that.

Just for the record, my mom, dad, and sister were very supportive. Of course, we are all tall (mom is 6'0", sis is 5'10", dad is 5'11"), so they know what it's like.

eeks, sorry for the double post...

Or maybe I'm just overreacting and she meant she sees the results in her self-image...

I don’t think your overreacting, I got that from it, too – though I’m not sure that Margaret Cho realized that she was implying that clear skin = beautiful.

Also, new studies have shown that drinking “lots” of water does absolutely nothing; nothing for your skin, nothing for your health. The recommendations were to drink when you are thirsty, anything else was pointless.

All my life I have been ridiculed by friends, family and pretty much everyone I know. I am, and always was, a big boned, muscular person. My upper body is built and proportionate, but my lower half is very "heavy." My legs are hugely muscular and like I said, have big bones.

During grade school, I was always the "fatter person." I was also the one who got made fun of because I did not wear a bra in 4th grade because I didn't need to. (I went to a Catholic grade school in a suburb of Chicago). Since I was from Chicago, and not the suburbs, I was made for ridicule. Apparently, being from the city made you gross, fat and disgusting. Ooohh...I hated my grade school and still cringe when I think about it!!

I had really bad self-esteem throughout the rest of grade school and into my early years of high school. But, going into junior and senior years of high school, I did not care anymore about what people thought. I was going through a lot of depression at that time, so that might have been the reason. It was not until college that I finally started to slowly accept myself for who I am. I even exercised all the time, and lost a lot of weight and looked great. However, I was on anti-depressants at the time as well, and gained back all the weight I lost plus lost all my muscle mass I gained. I was extremely saddened and disappointed. I stayed like that until I REALLY started getting active within the feminist community. I finally, learned that I will always be who I am and that I am finally pretty happy with myself and being a size 10. I care, now, to be toned and gain the muscle mass I lost, but not to lose weight. I see losing weight, unless life threatening, as a waste of time now and am really happy to hear stories of other ppl including celebrities about their experiences. It really gives me a will power that I think it really necessary to have in life.

And, to all the people in my grade school that made fun of me and to society as a whole that think women should be "skinny".....

FUCK.YOU!!!

(that makes me feel better :)

Wow, I guess the one I remember most is the day I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car next to my father, around junior-high age, and he was telling me I was too fat. To demonstrate, he said "look at my leg" while gripping his own upper thigh "then look at YOUR leg" while gripping my upper thigh. Mine was way bigger, had been for years.

He wouldn't dare do anything like that now. And I did see some understanding flash in his eyes a few years ago. I had to write a paper for a class and was considering interviewing a friend of his who is very large about being a fat woman in a position of power (she works waaaaay high up in the state educational system, far above my father). I asked him if he thought she'd agree to the interview, explained what it was about, and he said he wasn't sure but that I might be the only person she'd talk to about it. Since then he seems to understand my position on fat as a social status rather than personal failing a lot better than the thigh-grabbing days of yore. Thank God.

I've always been big boned. When I hit puberty, I bulked up quite a bit. I wasn't fat, per se, but by 14 I was 5'4 1/2 and 150lbs. Two things stand out for me from that time.

1. When I was 13, in 6th grade, I was more developed and "blessed", we'll say, than my classmates. The boys took to calling me Big Boob Bob. I just rolled my eyes at them and they stopped when I suggested, innocently, they call me 3B instead. It took me over five years to realize they were making fun of me, and why, and stopped when I took the fun away.

2. All through my teens my dad would call me "Miss Piggy". Now he says it was to "toughen me up" to taunts other kids might have used. Except that the kids weren't really that bad about my size. I was more critical about myself than they were, I realize that now. But it stuck.

Now I AM fat (still 5'4 1/2 but now over 300lbs) and I look back on my teen years when I was still in the 100s as being "in shape" and "fit" and question why the hell I thought I was fat.

I'm 27 1/2 and just realized the other day that I'm only likely to get fatter as I get older. I freaked because 1. it's not healthy AT ALL, 2. If my back hurts NOW, how much will it hurt with another 100lbs?! and 3. Obtaining clothes now is a hassle because of price issues and because they almost always now come from "specialty" shops for big gals.

But I can't lose weight. Last time I managed to lose weight I gained it all back with interest.

...and this has turned into a rant on a completely different subject. Sorry.

Thanks, ShelbyWoo.

Also, this article made me think of the community posting on "My Jiggling Sexiness, Or, How Fat and Fit Are Not Mutually Exclusive." (http://community.feministing.com/2008/07/my-jiggling-sexiness-or-how-fi.html)

Makes some great comments on the misconceptions of what being "fat" means.

I have too many stories to count. I think I went through nearly all possible phases of bodily self loathing when I was young. I was chubby-ish kid and short. My dad used to remind me that I needed to make sure I didn't get "too fat", because it would look worse on me because I was so short.

When I got to be a certain age I started looking at myself and thinking about taking a firm hand against the problem but never followed through. I then realized that if I didn't care enough to do anything about it, it must not be that bad. Thinking that enough times I convinced my self to tolerate, then like, and eventually love (most of) my body.

I was one of the last girls I knew in middle school who didn't shave my legs. My mom told me I was too young to start caring about that stuff. My hair was very dark and thick. When people found out I got made fun of so much that I snuck my mom's razor and shaved my legs in secret in the shower. I didn't know what I was doing and I cut myself very badly, leaving a scar on my ankle that is a constant reminder of not listening to the jeers of others.

I was a pimply pre-teen & teen. I developed faster. I had breasts and body hair by 6th grade. But I had bad acne until I was 14 or so and kids told me it was because I was dirty and didn't wash my face.

I had big poofy hair. The more I tried to tame it, the worse it seemed to get. Kids used to make fun of my "'fro" and throw gum in it. Once I was able to put it out before it stuck and they claimed it was actually buried in my hair. When I finally cut it super short I got all different comments, lasting until, well, now. People who assume that my hair style has anything to do with my sexuality.

I've become comfortable with how I look because I realized no matter how much I tried to change that there would always be stupid people who wanted to tell you that you're not good enough. I think it's a major part of being a woman- someone always feels the need to police you and put you in "your place". So since I can't please everyone, I stopped caring about pleasing anyone but me. I have a partner and he thinks everything about me is beautiful & sexy whether I try or not. I really lucked out with that one. Who could ask for more?

Wow, amazing how many of our stories are similar to each other.

Dolphin Donna: Sucks about the acne. I know how bad it can get. Even when you clean your face aggressively! It's hormones, and wearing make-up just makes it worse. I totally feel for you.

And I'm appalled by how many of people had mothers who'd get on your case for being fat. If anything, mom should be the one to understand how rough it can be growing up a girl.

I was on the subway late at night with two of my girlfriends, about a month or so ago. Three drunk men had approached us on the platform, and after a few moments of their dumb ass ramblings and lame jokes - laden, of course, with the requisite sexist bullshit that all such accosts are - the train finally came.

They sat down across the aisle from us and I suppose had become frustrated with their failure to woo us into joining them at some club downtown. They grew rowdier and started taunting me and my friends, waving their arms in front of our faces. And then one of them announced that my friend, "The blonde" was the hottest, and another shouted out "Now let's hear it for the one in red," at which they started hooting and hollering for my second friend. I screamed at them to SHUT THE FUCK UP, GO FUCK YOURSELVES - to no avail - and my friends told me to calm down. I told my friends I wanted to move, I was on the verge of tears and I didn't want these fuckers to see. They told me to relax, we were almost at our stop anyway.

When we finally did get off the train (I was so upset, banging on the sliding doors to fucking open already as the subway crawled into the station while the men continued to taunt me) I went off on my two friends. Why had they just sat there? Why was I the only one talking back to those men? They told me I couldn't get so worked up every time some drunken assholes hit on girls. It was unbelievable, I couldn't fathom their passivity and the excuses they were making for these men.

I avoided my friends for the next week and none of it was mentioned again. For days after, I starved myself because I felt disgusting and pathetic. I am disappointed in myself that it so shook my confidence in my body and my appearance when those men had cheered for my two friends being the hotter ones, while I was the hostile bitch with short hair and an attitude who couldn't take a joke.

When I was 12, and a bit chubby, my mom told me that if I didn't start losing weight soon, she'd be forced to take me to Jenny Craig. Although it's the only thing negative she every said about my appearance (that I remember), it stuck with me and had an impact on my self image until I was about 20. Even in high school I thought of myself as fat, despite the fact that I played on multiple sports teams and was a vegan, making it very difficult to even replace the number of calories I was burning everyday.

I don't know how it happened, but now I'm very happy with my appearance. I never wear make-up and dress in any clothes I feel like wearing. My body is very muscular, especially my legs, as I'm still very athletic and often lift weights. Instead of being embarrassed by it, however, I just smile to myself as a squat more than all the men in the gym.

I see that there are a lot of comments about people being teased by their parents/peers about being "fat" or overweight. I got made fun of for being on the opposite end of the spectrum. I've always been really small and skinny, I guess I got my high metabolism from my father's side. I remember in the middle school the girls were already talking about diets and only eating crackers for lunch when the nuns weren't paying attention. I never understood why my developing peers were dieting when A) they were so young and B) it's not as if they needed to. We were all pretty healthy from what I remember. Besides, there was no way in hell I wasn't going to eat something on pizza day!!!
But what stuck with me as a kid was that I was always teased for being skinny. I didn't reach 100 pounds until I was a Junior in high school. Kids were constantly telling me and others behind my back that I was anorexic or bulimic; eventually to the point where I just gave up defending myself. Along with my smallness came the age game. I didn't exactly look like a teenager in high school; many people thought I looked 12 because I hadn't hit puberty yet. I didn't have breasts, I didn't even start my period until I was 15. I had a cousin who would embarass me by asking strangers what they thought my age was even though it hurt my feelings. It's not fun to want to feel like you are growing up in a child's body; it hardly makes you feel attractive or confident.
But I think the worst was when I attended summer camp. A girl singled me out and throughout the whole week called me "Flatchest". My revenge was a little violent. I'm a great swimmer and can stay under long, meaning when I had enough of her name calling I held her under water longer than she could handle. It definitely wasn't one of my nicest moments, but I had had enough. She left me alone after that.
Here I am today, in college only 15 pounds heavier than I was in high school, and I still get the occassional "you're HOW old?" and my ID gets scrutinized every time I try and go to a bar. So in a way, I'm stuck with this. Yet, I've begun to appreciate that my body ages slowly. I just think of myself when I'm 35 still looking like I'm in my 20s. That isn't so bad.

Just to add a few more comments...

1) I noticed a lot of the ppl (parents) tormenting the readers were the fathers.

In my family, my dad was the one who actually was a lot more supportive of me than my mother. My mother since I was born, constantly criticized me and still does. I am fat, I have a huge stomach (which I actually don't) and that I look like I am pregnant. I can go on and on...

Sometimes when I know I can't hide my stomach because I ate too much (haha) or am wearing a tight shirt, I pull it off as if I were pregnant and that's why I have a belly. I don't know if this is a form of denial or pride? I say this, because as in my previous comment, I am pretty happy with myself and my body, but I still have some tweaking to do.

When you are a teen girl in American culture, boobs might very well be the holy grail. I waited and yearned for puberty so that I could be a “real woman”. Well, puberty came and went… and nothing. I remember a boy that I really liked wouldn’t date me because I was “flat as a board”.
UGH.

For the next four years of my life I wore uncomfortable padded bras and felt like a fake in my own body. I knew that I wasn’t being honest with myself and I hated the way I felt, but I couldn’t leave the house without my “boobs”. Feminism and feminist text saved me, thankfully. I realized I was giving into what society wants women to look like and I realized that it was bullshit.

I threw my padded bras in the trash and became quite vocal (perhaps in defense) about getting rid of them. I finally felt really proud and free….and I still do to this day

I was always tall, even as a kid. I stopped growing at 13, at 5'8, but was still thin. Not skinny; never was, never will be. But still, thin. And I stayed thin, for a long time, until I hit a pretty bad spot 3 years ago.
But then puberty hit; and believe me, it hit hard. I suddenly grew breast(and that didn't stop until I was 16, which leave me with the pain and joy of DD), and hips, and thighs, and since I always had a small tummy, that appeared a bit more too.
I really didn't feel that bad about myself, even though I felt a bid bad for having bigger everything that all the girls around me. Then, along came my mother.
I was eating more... because I was more hungry. But my mom convinced herself, somehow, that I eated too much, and that the 30 lbs I gained in a year were because of that, and unnatural.
Years later, I saw that the friends, and friend's mothers who told me my mom was jealous of me, were right. (Even though she probably wouldn't believe that was the reason she acted that way with me.) My mom never had breast before having me and my brother; as a young adult, she was still mistaken for a teenager, while I, at 14, was mistaken for 20 or higher (mostly because people are too busy with my body to take a good look at my face, but that is another story).
She was always there, telling me that if I eated just a bit less and exercised a bit more, all of this "fat" would go away. The worst of it? She really though she was helping me.
I now know this is a part of me, and won't disappear simply because someone want it too. Sometimes I still wish for it (like when I go shopping: a lot of the clothes, perfect on skinny girl, if I'm lucky enough for them to look good on me, will give everybody a good reason to label me "slut" because *gasp!* I dare to show that I have breasts!), but I don't struggle as much as I did back then. And I know that, if not for my mom, I would have struggled a lot less. And my weight wouldn't have been yo-yoing for the last three years.
I just hope I'll never do that kind of thing to the children I'll have. Someday.

Btw...on a side note (sorry about the multiple comments today, guys, I am a bit vocal), I just went to Victoria's Secret the other day and they give me a brochure for a new product they're coming out with... A FIRMING BRA!!! Can you believe it?!

This bra is supposed to firm and lift up your breasts within 4-8 weeks. A BRA! Implants, creams, etc etc are not good enough. A BRA has the "power" to firm your skin and lift your breasts higher!

Ugh...made me sooo mad!

The sad part is, women WILL buy it....