I grew up in Toronto in a typical family who made taught me typical things like being fat is a life-choice worse than death. There was no hope I would ever date (no guy would ever see me as more than a friend) and I would die before I got a chance to even think about getting married.
I was taught how to hide behind my clothes. Somehow or other, for a long time I really believed that if I wore black and navy
I had wonderful friends who I kept at arms reach because in the back of my head I was pretty sure they either did not really want me around, or only wanted me there to make themselves look better. I never really let myself enjoy my friendships without wondering what was going on inside other people's heads.
I did date. I eventually found a wonderful man who saw in my much more than I saw in myself. He stood by me and told me again and again and again that I am beautiful. I still mostly think he is lying to me, but living away from the negativity is slowly starting to wear me down.
It tooks years of therapy and lots of patient support from those whose opinions matter to realize that I can not let other peoples self-image play a role in my own self esteem. I am now a reasonably happy human being. I have a daughter and husband who are the lights of my life. I work all the time to get rid of the negativity that is always gnawing at the back of my head- telling me I am to fat to be happy. That I am to fat to accomplish what I want to do.