When I was younger, I was always skinny. And honestly, I never thought much of it. It was just the way my body looked. When you're a kid, those things don't matter.

I remember the first time I started to care about my weight. I went for a check up, and my doctor told me I was 120 pounds. I think I was in 5th or 6th grade at the time, probably about 5'5''. I remember looking at my mom and asking if this was a good number or not. At 10 or 11, that is not what I should have been worried about. But it was right then and there that I started to notice how much those numbers make a difference.

Fast forward a few years, now I'm in high school. Prior to this, I had been bullied a lot. Boys used to tell me I was ugly, gross, that I looked like a man, the list goes on. So my self esteem was very low at this point. High school, as I'm sure most girls noticed, is very different from middle school. Boys start to notice you, a LOT. Suddenly, I wasn't gross, I was cute. In their eyes at least. But I still didn't feel attractive, I didn't see what they saw. Freshman year I was still around this 120 mark, so I felt okay about my body, but not pretty. Sophomore year is when things started to take a turn.

I don't remember how it started exactly. I don't remember when that first thought crossed my mind. All I know is one day I must have woken up and decided I was no longer skinny, I was no longer in the body I wished to be in. So I started counting calories. I started restricting calories, a lot. I started going on Tumblr and reblogging pictures of bony girls with "perfect" thigh gaps because that is EXACTLY who I wanted to be. I thought if that were me, I'd be happy. I'd feel pretty. I'd be content with myself, finally. I stopped eating as much, I'd throw my lunches away or give them to someone else. I'd try to skip dinner as much as I could. I'd come home from school, and sometimes lose that self control and binge. And after those binges, I'd cry on the bathroom floor for about 20 minutes, trying so hard to get myself to throw up what I just ate, but it never happened. I felt like a failure.

Eventually, I saw the results of the weight falling off. I started to see my hip/rib/collar bones sticking out a little more. I had bought a dress for a dance in September that was too tight, but by February it fit perfectly. I look at pictures from that dance now, and all I see are my stick-like arms and wonder if it actually felt good to be in that body, or if I just liked the way I looked. I wanted more.

Eventually, I coped. I came back to eating, I was hungry all the time. This came in waves, and over the years it's progressed to eating normally. I don't restrict anymore, I don't try to purge anymore. I've learned to outgrow those things.

Then, I got to college. And as everyone says, that freshman 15 will take a toll on you. Except for me, it was a freshman 30. I gained weight, and I looked healthy still, but I didn't like it. Over the next four years, I had tried diets, and working out, but nothing happened. I just kept gaining weight, I blew up like a balloon.

Now, I'm a senior in college. This is the heaviest I've ever weighed in my life. I have stretch marks up and down every inch of my body. I refuse to take pictures of myself anymore. I hate to look in the mirror anymore. Don't ask me what the number on my pants tag is, don't ask me what size I have to buy my shirts in now. No amount of contouring can change the fact that there's fat hanging off my chin and cheeks. I look and feel disgusting. I hate it.

It almost feels like an addiction. I eat candy and fast food all the time, more than any person should. I want it because it tastes good, the healthy food does nothing for me. I tried joining a gym, and haven't gone in over a month. Nothing seems to be working.

Fat. That's my new title. I'm the "fat girl", wherever I go. I constantly compare myself to those around me. Don't think I don't notice how much bigger my legs are than yours. There was a time when someone told me "your waist is as big as one of my thighs". I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss those comments. Now I get comments like "Man, you eat a lot." or "You're a size what now? Doesn't that bother you?" Of course it does.

As I keep trying, as I'm finding ways of losing weight that work for me, one thing is for sure. I NEVER want to be labeled "the fat girl" again.