If I were to step onto a scale, the number that would flash across would in no way indicate that I am overweight. However, if I were to turn and look into a mirror all I would see is gargantuan pillows of fat. I would see odd curves and shapes, and an entirely disproportionate mass.

No matter how low the number on the scale gets, the image in the mirror is unwavering. Whether my clothes tags read small or medium at the time, it does not matter, they still seem to fit on an extra extra large girl with ease.

The other day I went to the movies with a group of friends. Once I arrived there were only seats at the very very end of the aisle, closest to the wall. I had to walk across everyone to reach the seat. All that was going through my mind was that everyone was thinking “this annoying fat bitch”, silently mocking me. I envisioned my huge thighs squeezing between everyone’s knees and seats.

For them, it was a temporary distraction from the opening trailers. For me, it was all that ran through my mind the days following. This is my body dysmorphia speaking, controlling my thoughts. Due to it, I physically see my body different than it really looks. Despite being conscious that my image is distorted, it does not change a thing.

My friends can say I’m the desirable “thicc”, my boyfriend can find me beautiful, but there is something in my mind that resists the truth. If I say I’m fat, it’s not a cry for attention, it’s a genuine fact in my mind. I believe all bodies are beautiful, no matter the shape or size, mine is the only exception.