Thank you for so beautifully capturing the daily, never ending torture in my brain. I call it the hamster wheel of self-loathing and it has been squeaking in my brain since I was 10 or 11. 35 years later and I am now actually fat — not just a thin person who hates her “fat” thighs. It is somewhat of a relief actually to be the thing I feared the most my whole life — truly fat. Not realizing it before, my body and my looks were meant to please others — men mostly, but women too. Now, though I am not exactly thrilled with the way I look, at least I feel like my body is my own. I don’t feel apologetic. How can I be? My size is now obvious, not like 50–100 pounds ago when my size was directly correlated to how I felt about it. Anyhow, thank you.