I don't really know where to start. I was never one of those skinny kids but due to the fact that I did a lot of sports when I was younger I wasn't fat either. When I was about 11 years old I broke my arm and wasn't able to work out for a year. Naturally, I gained weight, but that wasn't the only reason. The situation in my family has always been rather difficult. My parents used to fight a lot and there was always a lot of drama going on. When I was younger - in primary school - it wasn't that hard for me to cope with the situation but as I got older and finally understood why my parents fought all the time and at least I think I know why they fight. It just got really hard for me to cope with the situation. I cried myself to sleep every night and I was just really sad. I didn't invite any friends over to my house anymore because I was scared they would find out about my parents arguing all the time. I spent most of the time alone in my room, watching TV or reading. I was just too unmotivated to do anything. I wasn't happy.

During those days I started to eat a lot and of course, gained weight. It never really bothered me. I saw the skinny girls in my class but I knew that everyone is different and outer appearance is less important than personality. I was unsatisfied with my body but I knew that I couldn't lose any weight without help. I was not a loner in school and the other kids treated me nicely. Until one day this one guy from my class called me "fat". I was only 12 back then. It is 6 years ago now, but when I remember that moment it still feels like someone stabs a knife right into my heart. At home I cried and told my mom that I wanted to loose weight. I almost only ate junk food, so my mom was pretty much happy to hear that I was willing to eat fruits and vegetables and all of the healthy things instead.

In July, 1999 my "little diet" started. I was very ambitious and I knew exactly what I wanted even though I was only 12; a flat stomach and tights that do not touch each other. Back then I was about 166cm and 71kg. It wasn't healthy. By the end of the summer I had already lost 5 kg and by Christmas I had reached 60kg. I lost a lot of weight in a really small amount of time. I didn't understand it. It just happened. I ate less and less, every day a little less. No candy, no junk food. I still considered myself fat. I hated the person that I saw in the mirror. A year after my "little diet" started I was about 55kg and 172cm tall. Everyone told me how good my body looked and it made me feel good. I was finally able to wear mini skirts and little tops. The less I ate the better I felt. When I was hungry, I was happy.

My parents still argued a lot but suddenly I had found something that I was able to control. It made me feel good and I did not see a problem with it. I still considered myself overweight when my BMI was 17. It went on like that for months. While my mom got really worried and tried to control my eating habits and tried to force me to eat and my dad assumed it was only a phase I was going through. He wasn't too worried but kept telling me to eat 3 times a day to make my mom happy.

It was always really difficult to make my mom believe I ate when I didn't. I tried to avoid being at home for dinner or I told my mom I had eaten at a friend's house etc. and I told my friends I ate so, so much at home. I made up tons of lies. I wasn't able to understand why they were worried when I was still fat. I couldn't see how skinny I had got and I liked how my stomach was concave and how skinny my arms were and how you could see my ribs and hip bones. It made me feel stronger. I still remember how I didn't dare to wear a bikini even though you could see my ribs and hip bones. I still considered myself too fat for a bikini.

I didn't really try to cover my body but I never wore a short top because I thought I was too fat. It was ridiculous. The first time I understood that I was too skinny was on a Saturday morning. I still remember how I went to the scale, just like every other morning and every evening - 48kgs. At first I was happy, 175cm and 48kg, finally below 50kg. I went to my room in my underwear and looked into the mirror. But the girl who looked back at me wasn't happy. I realized how skinny I was. I realized how sick I looked - Pale, skinny, bags under my eyes.

I was almost 14 at that time. No one had an idea how little I weighed. I told everyone that I was 55kg. It was a big lie, I was 7kg less. My mom wanted to weigh me every day but I hid from her or told her I was in a hurry or other things like that. On that Saturday I understood that I had to gain weight.. I got back to 55kg. My mom was happy when she saw me eating but it was still very controlled. And for the next two years I was never more than 56kg. But since my mom weighed me every Sunday I couldn't get below 54. My whole family was worried about me and was watching exactly what I ate. It made me sick. I thought “I am still fat”. I looked into the mirror and I saw a big stomach and fat tights. I hated it but I felt so strong when I fasted for 2 days and ate nothing more than one yoghurt for the next 3 days. Every kg I lost made me happier again. I started to drink 2litres of water before my mom weighed me so I was heavier.