I was thin until I was moved to a different school aged 7. I was very shy and quiet and I couldn't deal with the change. I began eating for (in hindsight) comfort. I got fat. I weighed 10st aged 10. I hated myself and my Mother hated me for it. I was always strong and I decided to embrace my 'bigness' and take care of younger slighter girls who had problems .My size became me.
Aged 15 I met a girl who I became best friends with, I was dying to be slimmer and she was, so I began to eat like her. I copied her diet. In time, if I didn't spend time with her i didn't eat-reasoning I didn't know what she'd eaten that day. Sometimes I'd figure it out if she told me over the 'phone in conversation sometimes not.
I developed anorexia. I loved being slight and small. I loved the feeling of being tiny.
Time went on I recovered but it took about 8 years in total and then I embraced my frame and started training. I realised my bodybuilder Dad's indoctrination of 'be strong' and my Mother's of ' be thin' weren't me-I wanted to be strong but I didn't want it to become me. I found I put muscle on very easily and I adored that. (guess I had my Dad's genes!) but then I injured myself.
My body image has been a reflection of someone else's ideal most of my life and today I am just thankful that I've decided as long as I am healthy it doesn't really matter. And I feel triumphed that above missing being slim, I miss my strength.
but I run and I look after myself and I try my best to help other younger women who struggle as I did.