My whole life, I have never been defined as anything but Different. Different and Fat. Different, Fat and Weird. But being defined as this, people got this idea in their head, this idea that I was this strong person. This idea that I was ok with who I was, that I never wanted to change. And, with all honest, they were right. I did not want to change who I was, but rather, what I looked like.

While I was being defined as those things, I defined myself as Ugly. Ugly and Fat. Ugly, Fat, and Weird. All of these things were being built up against me, saying that I looked like I didn’t belong anywhere. While that should have made me stronger, and in some aspects it did, I only ever felt like I was becoming more and more weak.

I often compared myself to all those skinny girls, and that is probably the worst thing I could’ve done to myself.

There was this boy. This boy was popular, fit, and he was weird. Yet, being weird, he was liked and he fit in. You have to understand that I never thought those two things could co-exist together. So of course, I began to feel attraction to the boy.

You probably already know where I am going with this, but I’ll spell it out anyways. This boy, it was probably just my imagination, started showing signs that he liked me. I had always considered myself good at picking up those signs, so I thought I was, just maybe, a little pretty.

Then there was this girl, the type of skinny girl who wore too much make-up and had no personality. You know the kind? Well, of course the boy liked that girl, and I, of course, was heart broken.

Even though I considered myself ugly and fat, I thought I had a pretty good personality. People always told me I was easy to talk with, become friends with, that I was always nice, and that, being weird, I was funny. I always pin pointed the boy to like a girl with a personality, who didn’t inhale as much make-up as that other girl did.

But, as always, the skinny girl wins the battle. And I couldn’t help but think that, maybe if I was skinny, he would’ve liked me.

Have you ever hated what you looked like on the outside? Hated that you could feel that there was a skinny girl inside, just trying to claw her way out? Hated how you could feel your fat smothering her back inside? I did. Everyday.

I was only 15 years old, and I was at war with myself. I felt as if no one noticed that I was sad, not even my parents. But as the year went on, sure, I still had a crush on that boy, but I noticed how I did fit in. That I had my own little group of friends and that, weird or not, I was this independent, strong person, and I liked who I was.

Looks shouldn’t matter. But they do. They do to every 15-year-old, and probably to just about anyone. That’s life. All I want is for everyone to notice how its not your looks that define who you are, rather, what you do and how you act.

If I could ever get just one word out there, it would be Inspire. I want to inspire people to be who they are, no matter the cost. I want those people to inspire others. But most importantly, I want to inspire girls who, just like me, don’t like how they are on the outside, but teach them to Love what’s on the inside. Because that’s what really matters.