Even during childhood, I was a thin little thing.
My mother would feed me the fattiest things we had and my doctor would scold me for my weight. I always ate my food and I never skipped meals. I even ate snacks every couple of hours. Nothing ever seemed to help. Being thin as a rail and always being shorter than everyone made me self-conscious. "Don't you ever eat?" "Does your mom even feed you?" "Do you starve yourself?" I was constantly asked these rude kind of questions in high school.
To gain weight, I ate everything I could, no matter how unhealthy it was. I would eat until I felt like my stomach was going to explode. After doing this for a year, I only gained pounds. No matter how hard I tried, I could never gain weight.
I hated my body for a long time until my first girlfriend taught me to love myself. I'll never forget what she told me the day she found me crying and stuffing my face with leftover turkey. "Babe, beauty isn't worth thinking about; what's important is your mind. You don't want a fifty-dollar haircut on a fifty-cent head." I guess I'll never where she got that, but it was beautiful and since then, I've been trying to love myself, no matter how thin I am.