(story submitted Anonymously, by a Chestist, on rewind)

I was never the fat girl, but I was never the thin girl either. I wasn't the ugliest girl, but I was far from attracting the attention and admiration of anyone either. I had flaws, but I wasn't a flaw. And this is how I felt during my years as a teenager.

I went through puberty at a very early age. Nine years old to be exact. I always felt special– being the tallest, being the biggest. But those feelings changed once I entered middle school and learned thin was in.

I continued to gain weight a grow, and by seventh grade I was 5'3" and 150 lbs. No one ever said to my face that I was fat. I only felt that I was because I was surrounded by prepubescent girls and t.v. shows like America's Next Top Model, that praised and glamorized size 0 bodies. And growing up in a home with a constantly dieting mother and Barbie Dolls to play with, I knew I should have been thinner.

And to be honest, I could have eaten healthier and exercised more. But I never focused on that nor did anyone ever tell me that I should aim to treat my body better– only that I should be thin. Thin was in.

My junior year of high school I decided to lose weight. I started cutting the carbs out of my diet, and the weight flew off quickly. By my 17th birthday, I was 25 lbs. lighter. I managed to maintain this weight through out the summer and I felt great about myself. I was getting the attention of both guys and girls. I didn't want it to stop. I had to keep losing.

The beginning of my senior year brought on a few unwanted changes in my life. I was moving to a bad section of the state, and my parents were getting a divorce. I was also fighting with my boyfriend a lot at the time, so I turned to the one thing that made me happy. The one thing I could rely on, losing weight.

By October, I was full on starving myself. At first, I barely lost weight and binging after starving for a few days left me at around 120 lbs. I had to fight it. I turned to thinsporation and calorie counting web sites to "keep me on track" with not eating. And it worked.

The praises I was once receiving at school turned into worry as I continued to get smaller and smaller. But I didn't care. Friends, teachers, and family alike expressed their concern of me losing too much weight. But I didn't care. It made me happy and it was being positively reinforced by fitness and fashion magazines and websites. I wanted to shrink until I no longer existed.

Deep down though, I was tired. By May of my senior year, I was down to 98 lbs. And as much as I like to believe it was making me happy, it wasn't. I was diagnosed with anemia, electrolyte imbalance, anxiety disorder,bradycardia, and an eating disorder. I was slowly dying. I turned to my friends, family, and school for support. And with all their help, I am now a healthy, weight restored, young adult female.

I would be lying if I said it's not a struggle though. Everyday I'm plagued with images of air brushed stick thin models. And although I'm surrounded by the pressure to look like them, I know better. I've been down that road. It may be paved glamorously, but it leads to death. {end story.}

What do you guys think?  Anyone relate?  Anyone have any advice to share with others?  Now's the time.  And thanks,