I still think of you sometimes, when I wear a certain shirt or I'm staring in the mirror trying to see past my flesh to the beating heart and pumping organs inside. Wishing my value wasn't based on the incasing of my inner anatomy. Sometimes I think that I'm doing better, and that your words will fade away with time, but they don't. Even as my confidence rises and falls like deep breaths, the words still linger. I remember your names and your faces, even if you don't remember mine. I still hear the little whispers of insecurity, sometimes with a male tone of voice. I hear family members too, but when they speak they only speak with the innocent suggestion of care. When I heard you speak it sounded like disgust, because I was heavy, I was worth less than another human being.

I'm stronger now. Three years later and I'm finally starting to love myself no matter what the scale may say. I still have my days, days where I wish I could slice the fat from my skin and reveal the beautiful bones and organs that lie inside. I have realized that my beauty lies in my mind and that I can express it everyday through the words I speak, and the sentences I type. Sometimes I wish I could see you again and tell you how much better I've become, but I have realized that the worth in that is much less than the worth you saw in me. I won't let your young, harsh and ignorant words define me. I am more than my waist size. I am more than the amount of matter that pulls me down with gravity. Today, the weight of your words is much lighter than the weight I see on the scale.

Would life have been better if I was 80 pounds lighter in high school? Maybe. Would any of you be worth having conversations with? Probably not. If I knew then what I know now I would have laughed in your faces, walked away and forgot every word you said. I would have brushed off your words like dust. So, here's to you boys, I hope you're happy. If you ever have a daughter I hope you look in her beautiful eyes and tell her how much she is worth no matter her weight. I hope you explain to her that it's what is inside that truly matters. I hope you never cause her to get on that bathroom scale and question her worth because of the number that blinks back at her.

In the end I want to thank you for those words you said, because you made my skin thicker. That's a couple extra pounds on the scale that I won't mind.