The first time I remember my parents telling me I was fat was when I was eight.
My dad told me I looked fat in the shirt I was wearing.
When I was in fourth grade, my mom told me I looked fat in my class picture.
I've always believed I was the fattest girl in the room.
Even now, having lost ~45 pounds and three dress sizes over the last seven years, I have a hard time believing that I'm not fat.
I eat well and am very active and strong. I have an intellectual understanding of what I must look like, but I still feel horribly fat.
One positive thing, though, is that I love my arms. Even at my heaviest I've never been afraid to bear them because I think they look strong, and also it sucks to cover them up in the summer time.