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As an obese child, life was very hard. I know that many of you can relate. I was born a healthy weight of just over seven pounds. I was a cute little girl with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I was the second child born in my family, and my sister and I were loved and cherished. As I stood on the stage singing my little heart out, proud as I could be, I sensed that some people in the audience were laughing at me because I was fat.
By the time I was in third grade, I weighed pounds, which was more than some of the teachers. Throughout my school years I was subjected to daily teasing, mocking, jokes, stares from people of all ages, bullying on the playground, exclusion from gym teams, and being ostracized by my peers. With each passing year, my weight increased approximately 30 pounds and my self-esteem and self-worth plummeted.
The pain was too great for me to bear and, as a young girl, I prayed many nights that I would die in my sleep. I hated myself. I hated my life. But even more so, I hated having to face yet another day with its painful repetition of the day before. I felt vulnerable to constant negative attention every time I was out in public. One time, with tears rolling down my chubby cheeks, I told my father that I felt sad and hurt by all the kids teasing me. He told me that he had been a fat kid too and that he knew how I felt.
When kids teased me, I told myself what he had said. I still felt sad and lonely and hurt. That was the last time I remember telling anyone about the pain. In seventh grade I weighed pounds, and by the time I was a junior in high school I weighed The experience of obesity during my teen years was excruciating. I was never asked to a dance and I never attended a prom. I was kicked, tripped, and spat at in the hallway.