I don’t know how to qualify the way I viewed myself. There were days I knew I was too thin and others where I viewed myself as desperately in need of losing weight. Sometimes those two thoughts existed at the exact same time. I could look at my ribs and know they should not stick out like that, then turn slightly and see a fold of skin and immediately think I had let myself go.
Small things. A skin roll when sitting. Bloating after eating. The softness of my stomach when I pinched it between my fingers. The way my body looked from one particular angle. Things that probably would have meant absolutely nothing to anybody else became evidence to me. Proof that something was wrong and that I needed to correct it.