I’ve been having issues with my weight since maybe around 12? At 12, my routine was using my bus card to buy McDonalds. At 13, I entered a mixed school and was teased for being fat. At 14, I still didn’t understand why I was being teased for being fat. At 15, I wanted to be skinny too and started to run. At 16, I was having so much insecurities I caved in but was average. At 17, I was one of the fatter ones in my CCA squash and had a hard time during training. At 18, I had the desire to be skinny, really skinny. At 19, I was skinnier and wanted to go down the scale some more. At 20, I was skinny, trained like mad and just traced my bones to sleep each night. At 21, I gained so much weight I cried about my weight bitterly so many times. At 22, I was in a constant weight battle from the high to the low on the scales. Now, I’m just a broken mess of numbers. I’ve defined myself by numbers. And it won’t go away. But oh wells. It’ll pass.