I'm not fat. It has taken me 10 years to say that and mean it. Ten years! I could always use exercise, tone up my body a bit, but I'm not fat. Even when a little over a year ago, when physically I was in the best shape I had ever been in my life, I still thought I was fat. I am not sure why now, this month, this year, this day, I can honestly say to myself, and believe it, that I am not fat.
I have struggled with weight issues since the 8th grade. I was never fat then, but I truly, whole heartedly thought I was. If I couldn't see each one of my ribs, I was fat. When I got to college, if I wasn't less than 100 pounds, I was fat. I remember hitting 99 and be so damn proud of myself. I am not sure if I was a true anorexic. I ate. Some days more than others. I called myself a 'borderline anorexic'. I'm not sure if this is an actual term meaning something completely different, but I thought since I ate, I wasn't an anorexic, therefore, just on the border of becoming one. I think the lowest I ever got was 97 pounds. Funny thing is, no one really knew, and I'm not sure if anyone really noticed either (at no fault of their own). I hid it well.
I have also suffered from depression since 8th grade as well, but that's a whole other blog all in itself, and I'm not quite ready to let all the out.
Point is, I'm not fat. I am 5'5 (and three fourths) in height and 133 lbs. If I lose some weight, great, if I gain a little, okay. I will never be a size 2 again, I have hips damnit, and that's okay too. I'm not fat.