You're ten years old and nothing bothers you. You've got a stomach that protrudes just a little bit, but that's okay. You wear anything you want and nothing can bring you down. Your mom tickles your stomach and looks down at you, smiling as she says, "When you're older, you'll grow up and you'll be big and strong!"

You're thirteen and it's the most awkward phase of your entire life. Things are changing and weird stuff keep going on with your body and you're confused, but too scared to ask what's happening. You still have a stomach that protrudes, though now it's a little bit more noticeable. You're told, "Once puberty hits you and you have your first growth spurt, that stomach will go right away!"

You're sixteen and puberty is long over. Your stomach hangs out now, a constant reminder of all of the lies you were told as a kid. Clothes don't fit you right and you're uncomfortable in everything you wear. Your friends pretend like they don't care, but you can see it in their eyes when they look at you. You stop going on shopping trips with them and start looking into plus sized clothing. You discover sweatshirts and sweatpants and that becomes your fashion sense. You think the baggier the clothes are, the less people will see. You haven't even touched a pair of shorts in months. The word "fat" keeps getting thrown around and you come to hate it and everything it stands for. They say to you, "Hey, why don't you come to the gym with us?"

You're eighteen and college is looming around the corner. You meet a crowd of new people and they accept you for who you are. Except, you know you're never going to be quite like them. They're stick skinny and they wear cropped t-shirts and shorts without a care in the world. Meanwhile, you're still hiding behind baggy sweatshirts and jeans that are just a smidge too big. You're self-conscious every time they want you to go out with them because you know that you're always going to be "the fat one". People start looking at you with pity and saying, "Maybe try a diet. You have to think about your health."

You're conscious of everything you do, everything you wear, everything you say. You've never thought of yourself as beautiful and you sincerely doubt that you ever will. Everyday is a struggle between your mind and your body. Your mind says, stop, you don't need to eat that bag of chips. Your body responds, but I'm hungry and they're right there. Your mind says, okay, you can have the chips, but go to the gym later. Your body says, I can't. Everyone will look at me. Everyone will judge me. And the battle continues on and on and on.

You've never worn a crop top in your life. You've tried them on and taken one look at your stomach and torn the shirt off of your body like it had burned you. You stand in the bathroom and gaze at yourself in the mirror sometimes and just look. You hope that maybe, by some miracle, your stomach has gone away. You analyze every curve and every inch of your skin looking for a way to be considered beautiful, but you never find it. You look at yourself and just see fat. Because for all of your life, that's all you've ever been. Fat.

Or at least, that's all I've ever been. I'm the fat friend. I'm the one around for comedic purposes because I'm not attractive enough to be considered pretty. I make jokes and entertain people because it gives me a place to belong. I understand that when I'm out with my friends, no one will ever look at me and think I'm the most attractive one. They'll scan me, maybe, look me up and down and try and determine how they feel about me. They'll skim their eyes over my stomach or my thighs or my arms and grimace before turning away from me to look at my friends. They'll befriend me in the hopes that I'll bring my friends along and hook them up. They talk to me because I'm easy to talk with and because they're not attracted to me, so they think they can tell me anything because someone like me is lucky to be talking to someone like them. They'll treat me like one of the boys because I'm not curvy and feminine and I've accepted my place as the "best friend" instead of the "girlfriend".

I'll stand back and watch as my friends go out on dates. I'll come into their rooms and say, "Yeah, I think this outfit looks great on you!" and I'll help them do their hair and makeup before they go out with their boyfriends. I'll look the other way when they kiss each other in the hallways and hold hands under the tables. I'll pretend it doesn't hurt when someone cancels their plans with me to go be with their significant other. I'll smile even though I want to cry when someone tells me that I should start dating. I want to tell them hey, I would be dating, but no one looks at me the way they look at you.

I want to be confident in who I am, I really do. But I'm defined by my weight. I want to wear cute clothes and not give a damn about what anyone else thinks, but I'm too scared to wear shorts out of my dorm because I'm terrified of what everyone will say about me. I want to be with someone who loves me unconditionally, but I live in constant fear that I'll never find anyone who will love me or my fat. I cry myself to sleep some nights because I get hit with a wave of overwhelming misery that I'm going to be alone forever and no one will ever love me. I imagine having a family and falling in love, but constantly live with the idea that no one will ever want me. I want to be able to look in the mirror and like what I see, but I never can. All I see is fat.

All of my life, I've been defined by that word. I never played sports when I was a kid because I was overweight and I knew I couldn't run as far or as fast as other kids. I knew that I'd never be able to wear certain articles of clothing without someone saying something mean. I knew I'd never be able to live in peace for as long as I was fat. Unfortunately, all of this stemmed from the immense bullying I went through as an adolescent.

Bullying is something that most kids go through, as horrible as that is. They get picked on for one thing or another because everyone has flaws. Growing up, I was made fun of for being fat. I hated gym class because I was always the last person running the mile and I never was good at anything. I hated shopping for clothes because while my friends were wearing sizes 2 and 3, I was wearing 8's and 9's. Eventually I stopped being able to shop in the same stores as them. I started tuning out of conversations that involved boys and dating, because who was I kidding? Boys didn't like me. They still don't now, and I'm 18. When I was in high school, a freshmen, I got bullied so severely that I developed depression. Six years later, I'm still trying to rebuild my self confidence.

Kids have no idea that the harsh words they spit will stick with a person for their whole life. I was told once by a girl, "Run faster, you're letting the whole team down!" when I tried playing field hockey in my freshmen year. I was told by a boy, "Please don't ever wear that shirt again," when I wore a tank top to middle school. I was told, "I have a friend who's like you, you know, bigger," by a girl I considered to be a close friend. I was told, "There's this girl I know that looks exactly like you, but she's not as big as you," by another friend. I've been told horrible things. Things I wish I could forget. Things I know I will neverforget.

I have spent my whole life being self conscious of every little thing I do. I am aware that I am overweight. I am aware that I'm the fattest girl in my friend group. I am aware that I will never be skinny. I am aware that I could have serious health problems if I don't do something about my weight soon. I am aware that my friends no longer invite me to the gym anymore. I am aware that when I am not around, they toss around words like lazy and fat and unhealthy. I am aware that they often forget that I am not like them and that I can't walk as far or as long as they can. I am aware that they can hear me panting behind them when I over exert myself trying to keep up with them. I am aware that they pretend like they don't see the sweat dripping into my eyes and down my neck when they are not even warm. I am aware that they know I like to keep my room freezing cold because I am fat, which means I sweat very easily. I am aware that they only say things like, "You're not fat!" out of kindness. I am aware that they understand that they cannot borrow my clothes and I cannot borrow theirs. I am aware that they scrutinize everything I do because of my size. I am aware that they pity me. I am aware that they will never understand what it's like being fat.

They don't know that the reason I love autumn and winter so much is because I can wear big jackets and sweaters and hide my stomach from piercing gazes. They don't know that I detest the summer because that means hot weather and bathing suits. They don't know that I adjust my swimsuit multiple times before I step out of the bathroom because I'm trying to hide the rolls of my stomach. They don't know that I stare at them when they aren't looking and try to imagine what it would be like to be them. They don't know that I spend hours and hours wondering what type of person I would be like if I didn't have a big stomach or wide thighs. They don't know that I cross my arms across my chest because I'm hoping that will distract them from looking down and seeing my stomach straining against my shirt. They don't know that I sometimes stare down at my own thighs when I'm sitting and imagine cutting away layers and layers of fat until I'm left with nothing but bones and flesh. They don't understand that I hate looking in magazines and on television because there are no women there who look like me. They don't understand that the reason I'm so funny is because I have nothing else going for me.

This isn't to say that they don't have insecurities of their own. Of course they do. Most people do. My friends probably think similar things. They might not like the way they look, or the way their thighs look in those jeans, but they've never been overweight like me. They've never lied awake at night with the fear that they will eventually die alone. They've never told themselves, "If I'm still like this by the time I'm thirty, I might as well just call it quits." They don't look into the abyss of self-loathing and self-pity and hate themselves for the way they look. They've never been alone like me.

They try to include me in things, I understand that. I know that they're trying and that's why I love them. But I can't relate to them. I can't talk about the cute boys who stopped to talk to me in the hallways because no boys stop to talk to me. I can't talk about that crazy party that happened last week because I don't get invited out to things. I can't talk about the newest fashion trends because they don't sell those clothes in my size. I can't talk about the nice weather outside because every time I leave my room, I start sweating like crazy. I can't go on hikes or jogs or exercise with them because I have anxiety attacks just thinking about them seeing me fail. I can't go to them and explain to them how I'm feeling because they don't understand.

That being said, I know I'm not the only fat girl out there. I know I'm not the only girl in the world who struggles with depression and self-loathing and self-esteem issues. I know I'm not alone.

But for a long time I thought I was.

If you're like me and you think you're alone, this is my message to you: You are not alone. There are people who feel exactly the same as you do. I promise. I know that life can be hard and that at times, you just want to give up. I know how that feels, believe me. As cheesy as it is to say, things do get better. If you had told me four years ago that I'd be in the place I am now, I would've laughed in your face. The confidence that I once had is slowly rebuilding itself and every single day I feel myself healing from the scars people left in me with their cruel words. I've started branching out more with my wardrobe and wearing things I never thought I'd wear. I found clothes that fit my body the way I liked and I started telling myself, "If I'm happy wearing this, then screw what anyone else thinks." and I've never been happier.

You will get over this. You will learn to love yourself, even though you don't think you will. Someone will look at you and think you're beautiful. Someone will smile when they hear your name. Someone will think about you before they go to bed. Someone will tell their friends about you. Someone will spend every waking moment thinking about how they're going to propose to you. Someone will grin every time they think about you saying yes. You will get your happily ever after. You will be happy. You just have to believe it.

Learning to love yourself is going to be hard. It is going to take time. You're going to want to give up. You're going to think that it's never going to get better. But be advised, if you don't try to make things better, they won't change. If you wallow in misery and never let yourself heal, you could be doing more harm than good. Let yourself cry, let yourself scream. Get out all of your anger and your misery and your hopelessness and let yourself heal. That's the first step to moving on and learning to love yourself. Accept the things you've heard about yourself and turn it around. Don't let the words fat or ugly define you. Redefine how you see yourself. Change the way you look in the mirror. Don't look for flaws anymore. Look for marks of beauty. Do you see how your eyes twinkle? Beautiful. Do you see how your hair shines in the sun? Magnificent. Do you see how your smile lights up your whole face? Gorgeous. Do things that make you feel beautiful. Buy clothes that make you feel pretty. Feel confident in your own skin. Let yourself love and be loved in return. You will feel better as soon as you let yourself heal. You may not be ready for that now, and that's perfectly okay. Take your time. But when you're ready to heal, just remember this: you are beautiful.And don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.