Learning not to care.

You know when I was younger I used to love running. Like, playing tag, stuck in the mud, even bulldog. I loved the rush, the adrenaline. I wasn't the fastest child, but at that age who cares. All I cared about was having fun.

I remember I used to come home, and my mum would always have a snack of some sort ready and waiting for me and my little sister. A chocolate spread sandwich with the crusts cut off, or maybe some biscuits. Her way of showing love was to make sure we were happy, and I was always happy with snacks.

My favourite food was always pizza, I think it was because of the way that you could always change the toppings, almost making it a completely new dish. Gooey cheese with salty bacon, or crunchie sweetcorn, juicy pineapple to add sweetness and yes I'm that person that loves pineapple on pizza. We were also that family that always made it from scratch. My parents say it was because they wanted to do things together and make memories, but I knew it was to save money, but either way, I was happy.

I suppose back then I didn't see any problem with eating what I wanted. I hadn't been educated on nutrition or healthy exercise, so to me, there wasn't a problem. I used to be so sociable. I always tried to make sure that everyone was happy and enjoying themselves. It was something that I loved about myself, and something that my parent's friends would always comment on, that I was so sociable.

A few years go by and everyone in my year is starting to come into their selves. And I look around and begin to realise that we don't all look the same anymore, I'm now only just realising that people develop in different ways. People don't want to play tag, they want to sit in small groups and create cliques. I notice that I'm changing, I'm bigger than some of the other kids, I'm not the biggest in my friendship group so I shrug it off, thinking I had nothing to worry about. I now no longer find running fun, I find it difficult. People are a lot faster than me and now it's no longer about having fun, it's about who can be the fastest. Someone makes a backhanded comment about how I'm basically running with a person on my back.

I begin to realise that now with age comes more judgment, people in my year are now able to think up such horrible words. But it's fine, I can still go home and enjoy the snacks my mum will no doubt have prepared for me.

But I'm shocked, I get home and my mum has nothing for me. Says it's best if I wait till dinner. However, at dinner mum explains that she's trialling new food that she's found from "weight watchers" and that she thinks it would be good for me. She suggests buying a trampoline for the family as she feels it would be good fun and a good source of exercise.

I go to bed that night and can't stop thinking about what my mum had said. I go on my phone to help me switch off. The bright colours and worded photos glide past me as I swipe with my finger. It's then, that I really notice how nasty people can be. The things that they would say to people that don't look that different to me, so I stop posting, I delete all my photos as almost security, to make sure there isn't anything for them to comment on. I click on these people's photos, and I see myself in them, someone who just wants to have fun, someone who doesn't have a care in the world. But why are they saying these things? Why are they being so mean? It's then I make a plan, I won't let myself get like that.

I use the school's free gym after school every day, I would use the bikes, the rowing machine, and even the running machine. The thing I used to do as a child, the thing that used to feel fun, now feels like a punishment. Something I have to do to punish my body for allowing it to eat whatever it wanted. I now run until I feel physical pain. This doesn't take long because the other thing that used to always make me feel happy, is now something I can't do in public, it's now something that is done in private.

Now when I get home, I deny any snacks offered, no matter how healthy or "weight watcher" friendly they are. I go straight onto the trampoline. My mum watches from the window waving, with a massive smile on her face watching me thinking she's made an amazing purchase. I stay on there for hours, pretending I can't hear my parents call me for dinner.

My nights are now spent sneaking into my parent's bedroom stealing the scales from under their bed and taking them into the bathroom to weigh myself. But nothings working, nothing at all, I feel defeated. Why isn't my body doing what the other kids are doing? Why is it bigger? Why is it wider? No matter how much I moved and how little I ate, it stayed the same.

The thing I used to do to have fun, I now used as a punishment and the thing I used to look forward to and would make me happy I now refuse. I don't want to talk to anyone about it as I'm embarrassed, it's my body, I allowed this to happen, at least that's what I would tell myself. I started to shut off. I no longer was that sociable child that loved talking to everyone. I no longer had no cares but instead cared about everything! What everyone was saying because I thought they were aimed at me, and what made everyone else happy rather than what made me happy.

As time went on, these feelings never left or changed. Instead, they became a motivation. I take them with me, every day. And I use them to make sure I do what makes me happy. Because no matter how much I punished myself, or no matter how much I deprived myself. I would always still see the child that was bigger than all the other kids when really I should be seeing the kid that didn't care, and just wanted to have fun.