my weight and how it has impacted me over the years :
16 years ago i was born overweight through an emergency C section surgery, a prelude to a life defined by my weight. I was a normal sized toddler until i turned 6 my parents enrolled me in ballet and i realised how much more my belly sticked out and how much thicker my thighs were than the other 6 year old girls around me. i persuaded my parents to quit by telling them i did not like the feeling of gel in my hair when it was, in reality, because of the fact that i felt inadequate to those around me. Understandably, as a 6 year i did not understand these feelings of inferiority and the concept of being bigger than those around me. When i started going to primary school, they would measure our height and weight every year. When i was 7 i was severely overweight, at ages 8-10 i was overweight when i turned 11 my bmi was acceptable, but barely. In the country that i stay in, anything above 22 bmi is considered overweight. I still remember the first time i realised i was fat and not just “chubby” was when i was 10, just after lockdown ended when i would spend all day stuffing my mouth with food, my best friend at the time told me, “you are like selena gomez and i am like hailey bieber, you’r e fat and pretty and im skinny and pretty” That was when i realised there was something wrong with me, that was the pivotal moment in my life when i realised i am different from those around me and when i understood why my dad was so adamant about me exercising.
However, while i realised i was fat and began hating the way i looked, i lacked the motivation and discipline to do anything about it. Instead, i concluded that it was just the way i was meant to be. When i turned 12, i sank into depression. I had one friend, 4 major exams that i was studying 10-12 hours for every day , i had no internet access at all. Additionally, this was 2022 which was just after peak covid and everyone was wearing a mask which had a direct impact on my self esteem and i felt disgusting if i didn’t wear a mask and if people saw my face. At this point in my life i was 51kgs which is the lowest i can ever remember being since i was 10. Once the school year ended and i excelled in those major exams, i made new friends and i went on holiday and when i came back i was a whopping 55kgs.
The following year, i turned 13 and i had to join a new school. A guy that i’ve never talked to before asked me, “Why are you so fat? Or are you thick skinned or something” and walked away laughing.” I cried but once again i did not have the discipline or knowledge to do anything about it. I spent 3 years of my life from when i was 13 to 15 hating the way my body looked hating the way i looked in clothes i tried on, feeling that no one would ever love me and that every pair of eyes on me was a quiet verdict and every compliment was a gentle lie. When people told me i was pretty or wasn’t heavy, i heard pity wrapped in sugar to make the truth easier to swallow. I got into 2 fights during this time with 2 separate people, and both times the first thing they would bring up is my weight , “at least i’m not fat like you” “fattie” they would say as if my weight was a measure of my character, these were the same people that would reassure me i was not fat when i opened up about it in the past so it truly was eye opening and painful when it became clear to me that i was truly fat and everyone was lying to me. For a few months when i was 14, i attempted to work out and skip dinner but i remained the same weight. From August 2025 to December 2025, i was eating a lot of processed food and i was depressed, again and i had no one to talk to in school. In the quiet depths of my isolation, i searched for a reason as to why i felt so utterly alone and my mind settled on a devastating answer: it was because of my body. I tried exercising and eating slightly less than usual but i could never be consistent and stick to it. When i went on holiday and came back on 31st december 2026, i was at my heaviest at 59kg.
Seeing that number on the scale was my turning point. I set my mind to losing weight, unwilling to let my body dim my presence any longer. I was so tired of my personality, my humor, and my face being eclipsed by the space I occupied. I couldn’t simple rely on vague effort again, i am a deeply analytical person i have to understand the underlying mechanics of anything before i commit to it, so that it was i did. With my studies in biology, I spent hours researching how the human body works. But behind all the scientific terms, the answer was remarkably straightforward, my caloric intake had to be lower than my caloric output. That was it.
From January to February, I strictly limited myself to 1200 calories a day and exercised constantly, yet the scale stayed stubbornly at 58 kilograms; a month later, a wave of depression pulled me down to 57. But when April came around, I made close friends, and the rest of the weight melted away. By May, I pushed myself even harder, cutting my intake down to a 300 to 900 calories a day while prioritizing protein, bringing me down to 56 kilograms, and eventually reaching 52 by the end of June, the exact weight I was at twelve. I was living my best life, active and surrounded by people, but it only confirmed the dark story I’d been telling myself all along. In my mind, the math was clear: the less space I took up, the more people wanted to be around me.
In July, something shifted. I started talking to a girl who had been in my class for two years, someone I had somehow overlooked until now, but who suddenly felt like the brightest person in the room. She’s charismatic, charming, beautiful, and so funny that every time we speak, we both end up laughing until it hurts. As we’re slowly getting to know each other, she’s so sweet to me, always complimenting my eyes and calling me pretty. I’ve fallen for her completely, a massive crush blooming before I even fully realized it. But my mind couldn't just accept something soft and good; it immediately twisted her into my newest metric. Now, she’s my main motivation to keep shrinking, the prize at the end of the scale, shedding more of my body is the only price I can pay to finally be worthy of her love and attention.
Now I am at 49.1kg, a lot of people in my life are commenting that i look thinner which i thrive on but i wish it was less normalised for people to comment on people, especially children’s body. Most of my thoughts are occupied by food and exercise now and i feel overwhelming feelings of guilt when i eat too much and a sick sense of joy when someone tells me im not eating enough. I do look significantly better in my clothes and since my face slimmed down i’ve been getting more compliments about being pretty than ever but nothing beats the euphoric thrill of seeing the scale go down.
The goal is no longer just to lose weight so i’m not the fattest person in the room. The goal now is to be skinny enough that people worry if i’m eating at all.
this post isnt really for likes i dont think anyone’s going to read until here i just wanted a place to say my story but if ur here, thank you
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