Me and my mom had been eating ice cream together since I had two teeth and a carefree smile. It was always a source of joy and comfort to eat a cup full of ice cream and watch crime dramas on the living room floor.

I was never aware of physical appearance to the 6th grade when I noticed that I didn't look like every twig of a girl around me. I was more of a branch. It was then when I noticed every way each dress and top fit on me and wondered if black was really slimming.

Occasionally my mom would make comments about losing weight and for some reason I never much enjoyed the words that came with her smiles. I then spent my time being so self conscious I could barely look at myself in the mirror.

It seems like no matter where I went the way I looked factored into everything, whether I could have that piece of cake or if I would have to worry about my uncle haggling  me about not playing sports, he always seemed to idolize the physical condition of my cousin, yet she didn't seem happy ;but she was number one in the state at gymnastics.

I learn to fear my grandmothers words when she would say things like fill out or bigger and to shy away from my mother when she said maybe you should get that in a larger size,and somehow their words that were always said with a smile and a tone as sweet as ice cream never failed to break me down.

It took me forever to realize that I should love my body no matter what anyone said but it was always hard for me to pick myself up after their words always seem to tear me down.Yet we still eat ice cream and look at that big flat screen in our living room, just not as carefree as we used to be.