The Road to Fatness and Self Hate

Once, I was a delighted child.

Somewhere along the way, I started chunking up. Always, I am compared to my younger sister. Me on left, her on right. We are dressed in our Fairy dresses.

 
Here we are again. Dressed up in pretty velvets and sparkly vests Mama made us to wear to our school Christmas pagent. I had was a narrarator and I loved this "bolero," as Mama called it. I was pretty puffed up here and I felt it too. Always, trying on the clothes Mama was making was a opportunity to feel really shitty about myself. "Stand up straight, hold your stomach in, tuck your buttocks under." Followed by disappointed sighing. I hated it and it made me hate myself, and others.




Here I am, 14 or 15 maybe. I look at this pic and I think I look pretty good. Especially compared to not too many years later when I totally blimped out. But my family would have none of it. I was FAT, and UGLY, and STUPID, and LAZY. Yeah, I had issues.

WooHoo! I loved being in Pep Squad! I loved wearing my dorky but slutty little outfit! And I ALWAYS wore pantyhose! I don't really like the way I look here, but it's really not that bad. It makes me sad that I could not see that then.