I use to be pretty chubby. I was always the “fat one” in the house. My family always talked about it, I never said anything… I just cried. I would lock myself in the bathroom and just stare at my stomach and ask myself why I wasn’t skinny like the other girls or why did I have to have these rolls. When I was in the 3rd grade I had my first real crush on the most adorable guy in my grade. He use to have these hazel eyes and cute little dimples every time he smiled, but little did I know that when I reached the six grade he’d attack me on my lowest weakness and call me fat and just laugh at my face like it was nothing. It made me feel like s***, but I always ignored the thought in my head. At school I’d always suck in my stomach to try to look skinnier, I don’t know if it worked, but I sometimes still try it today… I’m not chubby anymore, but I’m not always happy with my weight or the way I look. I grew up being called fat by my family and it’s just horrible how someone who’s supposed to be so close to you treats you like you’re a worthless piece of s***. The did apologize, but I can’t erase the years of damage they did to me, I just can’t forget all of the words I’ve heard, I can’t.