From a very young age, I have worried about my weight. Always a little bigger than my friends, I constantly felt like Violet Beauregarde from "Willy Wonka" when she blows up into a giant blueberry in a world full of skinny and mean Veruca Salts. When I was one of the first girls to hit puberty, the self-esteem issues worsened. Suddenly my wide hips and full chest were seen as fat, and I felt disconnected from my body, as young kids often do.

But that feeling didn't stop post puberty. It continued well into high school. Dating didn't make me feel any less fat. Playing sports didn't make my thick, strong, thighs feel anything but ugly. Every day I stared at my stomach in the mirror, sucking in and out thinking, "If I just eat salad for three months I'll have a flat tummy by summer."

I never withheld food from myself. I ate lunch at school with my friends every day and dinner at home with my family every night. I never made myself throw up (though I wanted to). I binged occasionally, but not to the point where it became a problem. But I had a problem. I had an extremely unhealthy relationship with food. I hated how I felt after I ate, and I hated having to eat in front of others. It later turned into obsessing over calories and carbs and things I didn't even really understand.

But this disorder didn't really have a name. I didn't show any signs (besides typical teenage angst) that would alert anyone to the problem I had. I felt alone because help wasn't readily available via a Google search because I didn't fit the standard description of anorexia or bulimia.

I just thought that this must be how all girls felt. It must just be normal self-esteem issues. Which is, in part, true. A lot of young women do feel the same way and experience the same struggle. People think that just because you aren't skipping meals you can't have an eating disorder, and that way of thinking is so wrong and so damaging for young people.

It wasn't until I went away to college that I realized the issues I had are valid. I was surrounded by women every day who talked about food as if it were a sh*tty ex-boyfriend. They'd say things like, "my thighs are so fat, I can't believe I ate those fries last night," and they'd justify the self-deprecation because since they don't throw up or starve themselves, they obviously don't have a problem, like I had thought about myself.

It was a total wakeup call.

Three years later, food and I are now good friends. We still fight occasionally but I am finally comfortable with myself. After years of an internal battle between my body and my mind, it wasn't easy to get to where I am now. Now, I look at myself in the mirror and smile at what I see, and I can eat four pieces of pizza with my friends and feel good about it because I know the next day I will eat a little better. I have fun eating now, and I understand that what I put into my body is going to reflect how my body functions.

But I know it can be much, much harder for others, which is why I chose to be vocal about my story. So many deal with these issues alone because no one will talk about it. I don't want a teenage girl or boy to have to go through this and think it's normal, because while it's common, it isn't normal. It isn't normal to hate yourself.

Our bodies really are incredible machines, and whether our machine is 130 pounds or 230 pounds, it is unique and beautiful and worthy of love and care. Don't let food stand in the way of you living your life, and instead let food help to make your life better.

If you or someone you know is struggling with an eating disorder, please go here to find more information and support.