I'm not really fat. At least not as fat as I THINK I am.
Or maybe I am... maybe I'm actually FATTER than I think I am.

I'll never know the truth, my self-image is distorted beyond repair.

I think most women (and many men) can relate, you think you look one way, then you get a quick glance in a passing mirror, or in a window reflection, and you don't even recognize yourself. More times than not, the person looking back is heavier than you thought.

It happens a lot. I think, how could I let myself get like this?

But then, time for a little perspective. I'm really only about 20-25lbs over weight. I mean, I could lose 40 lbs, but for my frame, it would be way too thin. To look my best, I'm sure 20-25 lbs would be perfect.

Then I'm reminded of once when I WAS 25 lbs lighter, I thought "if only I was 10 lbs thinner."

It's a vicious cycle that never ends. But how did it start? When was the first time I looked in the mirror and hated the person looking back at me? When did my insecurities begin? When was the tipping point?

Fifth grade, I was 10 years old.

I've always felt inferior to my peers. My perceived weight was only part of it. The fact that I was the only "black" child in an all white school played a huge role, but that's a different article altogether.

So I was always different. I stood out. My hair was different, my clothes were not as cool as everyone else's, my family looked much different than others. These differences I was growing to embrace: I was unique, an individual.

But then there was my weight. Looking back, I know I wasn't even overweight. I wasn't a fat child by any definition of the word, but I wasn't a stick either. I was healthy. I ate healthy foods, along with the usual childhood fare of candy, chips and soda. I exercised daily, rode my bike everywhere, walked to and from school, swam every day during the summer. So how did this all start? My mother, I think.

I can vividly remember, it was the summer of 1983. I had just gone swimming. I was standing on our deck, dripping wet still, and my mother looked me up and down and said, "Wow, you look like you lost a few pounds!" Up until that moment, I hadn't even realized that I needed to lose a few pounds. What to some may sound like a great compliment, for me, began a lifelong struggle with weight, body-image and self-esteem.