Once upon a time there was a five year old girl who was called fat for the first of many times. She grew to be gangly with long arms and legs. She stomach grew with her. She never lost the descriptive word that so accurately described her fatal flaw. She noticed the way the word rolled off peoples tongue, like a flex in a whip lashing at her soul. Her parents grew concerned for her health, but every word spoken was another crack on the happy façade, another chip off her shoulder. They whispered words of beauty, but the beast devoured them with its growls, riping into her sanity. Until the day came when she walked down the hall of her school… trembling with anger at every bout of laughter, because of course they were laughing at the insecure girl who starved herself to be thin. Who dieted constantly to be thin. Who sacrificed her sanity in order to fit their standards of beauty. There was a defining moment. There always is. This moment forever ingrained in her mind, the exact moment she decided she was beautiful. The light was streaming in from a high window, and her Pastor’s words rang through her head like a choir singing, like thunder surging, like rain was pattering on her soul to wash all the harm away. “You are made by the Creator and you are perfect in his eyes.” These are the words that to this day, SAVED ME.