"Hi, my name is Lily and I have polycystic ovary syndrome."

That's a pretty informative introduction if I say so myself. It would be silly sounding coming from a second grader but at the same time, it probably would have saved me years of being bullied if I had known at the time why I was the fat kid in the class.

Polycystic Ovary Syndrome in short is a hormone imbalance in females on the reproductive system. When it says reproductive system, one may only think it affects fertility and periods. While that is partially true, there is way more to it. The signs for it alone can include severe acne, irregular periods, and an increase of androgen, a male hormone.

On top of that, there are complications that go along. Complications include infertility, miscarriage, diabetes, obesity, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, sleep apnea, and endometrial cancer. My oh my, look at all those depression side effects. Unfortunately, I ended up with a few of those. Which brings it back why I wish I knew in second grade what was wrong with me.

At this point in my life, I take every chance I can to inform others this condition. I went through hell growing up constantly being called fat, chubby, jiggly and every other world that relates to fat. I got terrible acne around fourth grade and was called pizza face for years. I was called names behind my back and to my face by people I even called friends.

I got lucky thought because I am the type of person who didn't always give two damns what people thought of me. Sure, it hurt. Sure, I sometimes retaliated and said hurtful things back. Who wouldn't though? I still remember every single person from elementary, junior high, and high school who gave me hell for my weight and my acne.

Along with the physical complications I got, I also got add anxiety and depression to my list. I knew something was wrong for awhile but I did not know what. Through all of that, by my senior year of high school, I was finally able to say "screw it". Screw the bullies, screw my lack of confidence, and screw the anxiety and depression. From there, I became the amazing person I am today.

The reason I am able to write this all now is because finally, by my sophomore year of college, can say that I am confident in who I am and I want to inform others on what polycystic ovary syndrome is, and the struggles that come with it. I love all my curves from my smile all the way to my thunder thighs and everything in between.

No, that does not mean I don't strive to have a healthier body and life style, it just means I am happy and not constantly crying and whining about who I am not. PCOS affects 1 in 10 females who have the ability to bear children. That statistic is why I am sharing my story.