It's 2006. "You should eat more," Tommy casually said, as we grabbed our plastic silverware and walked to the lunch table where our friends were sitting. "You look like a toothpick."

I always thought those words were mean. Because looking like a toothpick couldn't be a good thing, right?

Little did my 8-year-old self know that this comment would be the first of many comments I would receive about my weight over the course of my life.

My self-confidence didn't leave all at once.

It's 2008. "I'm so happy I'm 72 pounds!" Emily, who was said to be my twin in both looks and personality, exclaimed. This was after saying that she felt fat before, when she was 80 pounds.

I thought in my mind that maybe I should be trying to lose weight, too. I didn't think much of it, though, because I had already heard my fair share of "just eat some more cheeseburgers." So, I thought I was small enough.

Fast forward to 2011. "You still wear a sports bra?" Sarah asked me, in front of all the girls in my eighth-grade gym class. "What a baby. I have D cups."

With her comments, and more than a few chuckles from my "friends," the next day I was wearing a real bra. It fit at barely an A cup, and for the first time ever, I started to hate my body.

Head over to 2013. "You're so skinny," Jason, the hot but arrogant basketball player told me. "You'd better sleep with me, or you might die a virgin. Seriously, I'm trying to help you."

I knew in the back of my head that this was a tool of manipulation. Instead of being smart and telling him to go away, however, I was a dumb 16-year-old, trying to get a guy to like me.

In 2014, the song "All About That Bass" by Meghan Trainor was released.

Many people praised the pop icon for a song that began with the lyrics, "I see the magazines working that Photoshop.
We know that shit ain't real, come on now, make it stop," as it was saying to stop making girls skinnier for magazines.

I had and still have no objection to this. I believe that all types of bodies are beautiful and can be shown in magazines.

However, what many ignored was the pre-chorus: "She says, boys like a little more booty to hold at night. You know I won't be no stick-figure, silicone Barbie doll. So, if that's what's you're into then go ahead and move along."

This song was the start of me not only wanting to grow in my stomach, and boobs, but now I also began to see the need for a bigger butt.

They year 2015: "Oh I think I've seen you around before. You're the tall one who looks like a stick figure." That comment came from another basketball player, his response when added to a group chat with mutual friends.

By the time I got to college, I thought my body was the ugliest thing ever. I didn't want anything to do with guys. I really just wanted to be single forever and die alone with some dogs.

In 2016, the Mattel, Inc. made Barbies have a "curvy" body type.

I don't know why at 18 years old I felt so offended by this. I know the intention was a good one. But for the past 10 years I had been hearing that I should be bigger, and now even the dolls were saying so to me.

Later that year, Marie told me, "I wish I was as skinny as you but had my boobs." This was around the time that it became acceptable for me to be skinny again. But I just wanted to be able to grow into my boobs and butt. I still don't know how to eat more and choose where the fat goes.

It's 2017. "You don't need to do so much cardio. Do some squats. Get a bigger butt," Jasmine said, while I was running on the treadmill — not for any benefit, besides the fact that I like running at times.

At this point though, I had already gotten emotionally slapped in the face with "Abby. You're a really nice girl, and you're beautiful. Stop putting yourself down because it's making you look bad" by a then-stranger — and partially woken up.

I told my friend that she had many positive and more important attributes about herself than that. I really started to believe that body image wasn't that important

Now, as a junior in college, I am still sort of insecure. I still don't wear certain articles of clothing because I believe that it doesn't "fit" my figure.

At the same time, have grown confidence in knowing that no matter what size I am — there will always be people that think girls of the opposite weight range look better.

The "bikini bod" that I would've never posed with a huge smile- had pictures that made its way beyond my camera roll and to my Instagram. Something that from the time I was 8 years old to now being 20, I would've never done.

That's because I know there really is no "perfect" body. It's what society is telling us that we should look like.

If we are healthy and happy with who we are, then why are we constantly dragging ourselves down to meet an image that we have created from our imaginations?

I still receive comments about my body, mainly from those who believe they are joking around when they say them.

I also have seen tons women who want to be both skinny and "thicc." I have seen many women who do appear to be both idolized by society.

I also have seen myself — in a better light and happier with myself. Because I choose to be.