I hate my body. But I also think I'm pretty. Why can both things live in the same head without exploding? Ever since I was a little girl I've felt ugly. I have no features that stand out; just dark brown eyes and black hair. I think I once looked in the mirror and thought, why are some people born so privileged while some others have to settle for such a... appearance?
I don't think my parents are ugly; on the contrary; I think my mother is a beautiful person. But I don't think I am. I am also fat. I'm 5'6" and weigh 125 pounds, although it used to be 149. I feel angry that people often didn't have the courage to look me in the face and tell me how ugly I looked. I wish I was like a little doll. Delicate and thin. Cute. I want people to look at me but not flinch. I think I especially hate the shape of my knees. Sometimes I want to cry while I look at myself.