When you're a young girl, society tells you who to be. It tells you what to wear, what to eat, how to dress, what to say, everything. When you're a young, thin girl, society rules your every move. You will do absolutely anything to stay the young thin girl. You'll cut your hair, change your clothes, you'll change your diet.

When I was 12 and even now, my entire identity was wrapped in being the thin girl. I changed everything to remain that girl, and now I pay the price for it.

I've never been the prettiest girl in the room. I've never been the tallest, or the smartest, or the nicest. But I have always been the thinnest. The "skinny girl." The tiny one. That's always been who I am. That's the way I'm built. People know that. What people don't know is that I starved myself to stay that way.

When I was 12 years old, around August 2010, I started puberty. When I started puberty I gained 25 lbs fairly quickly, and the weight kept coming. While that is a normal part of puberty and I have never so much as approached a chunky phase, I panicked. As far as I was concerned, I was not going to remain the skinny girl for very long, and with my entire identity being wrapped up in being that girl, I was not about to let it slip away.

I started eating smaller meals, working harder in gym class, and weighing myself more often. I told myself it was fine. A lot of people did those things. But soon it turned into eating one less meal a day, which turned into eating only one meal a day. I started weighing myself every day, three times a day.

I was lying to my friends and family about why I wasn't eating and why I was working myself too hard. I was lying to my doctor when they asked me why I had lost so much weight. I faked concern when they told me I needed to put weight on to be healthy.

I was obsessed with staying under 115 lbs. Then under 100 lbs. Then under 90 lbs. Soon I was an 86 lbs 12-year-old girl. None of my clothes fit me, I looked unhealthy, and I felt awful. But at the time, I thought I was doing well for myself. I was decreasing my appetite and making my dependancy on food nearly non-existent.

Until one day I passed out in a Target store from being so hungry and tired. That's when I knew I had gone too far. It took my parents nearly 15 minutes to get me to respond to them. Seeing the look on their faces made me feel awful. I confessed to my friends what was happening to me, never my parents.

I reached out to them for help and support in trying to get myself back on track. I got on a better track. I took better care of myself. I thought that I wouldn't care about it anymore, but I was wrong.

The sh*ttty part about this kind of thing is, it is a monster to beat. From over a year of starving myself and then binge eating once every few weeks, I have absolutely trashed my body and my eating habits. I still can't eat a full meal until I force myself to. When I do I feel so sick that I can't do anything but lay down. Sometimes I forget to eat for two days because I am rarely ever genuinely hungry.

I can't make myself eat more than two meals a day or I feel physically ill for days. On top of all of that, I have relapsed a million times. I have never put a label on this struggle because I don't know what to call it. I use the term "eating disorder" very loosely. But I do know that through the choices I made, I have made lasting effects on my body and my body image.

It's a genuine issue that I have dealt with. This isn't really a story of how I overcame an eating disorder. Sorry if that's what you came here for. This is me being honest with you. I have struggled with my body for eight very long years and I don't know when my struggle will be over.

But I do know that in a span of eight years, I have gotten better, I view myself better, and I feel better every day. But I have physical effects that are still being worked through, and sometimes I feel like the same 12-year-old girl I used to be.