I was ten years old the first time I thought I needed to lose weight. My family and I (mum, dad and younger sister) were on a skiing holiday with another family (mother, father and ten year old son). We were all getting ready for skis and boots and the store clerk who fitted us asked me how much I weighed and my mother told him. I overheard the mother of the other family inform the partner how much her son weighed, and at the age of ten I weighed a little more than the ten-year-old boy, so the message I chose to believe was that "I'm fat, and I'm inappropriate.” exploitation became part of my personality, I was treated badly because of the way some children in my fifth grade, but the overweight part was completely different losing weight, however my eating disorder behavior didn't start until my sophomore year of college. Middle school was an extremely difficult time for me. I had glasses and braces and in 6th and 7th grade I went through an extremely maladroit phase . My companions did an exceptional job in making those two years a living Tartarus. I am currently twenty-one, but I still shudder when I contemplate some of the unpleasant incidents I suffered with other kids during those years. I was a wonderful athlete. The only time “cool kids” would be “semi-nice” was when I was sooooo good at basketball. In eighth grade I transferred schools to a Christian school and began to grow out of my awkward phase. I received the contact lenses and took out the braces. It would seem that this gave me some confidence, but my self-esteem was still damaged. I made several friends and was in no way considered "the... center of the paper... a probably far-fetched goal." When I reached the goal I would binge and purge every day and after reaching the goal which was quite severe, my recovery took a turn. The first few days I just surrounded myself with people and went places I didn't want to walk just to avoid my eating disorder behavior. Getting days under your belt just got easier and easier. Then I would slip and fall for a few days and then get back up. I finally achieved my goal which I MADE myself believe I could achieve. It was a week ago that I caught up with him. This gave me some confidence, but I continue the fight at a different point. I have become strangely petrified of the feeling that I will keep falling backwards again, and at times, I still feel like I am falling backwards, but so far I have been able to get back up and I just pray that I continue to be able to do so. Thanks for reading and God bless you.