I think being a fat girl growing up really changed how my high school years went. I know for sure that it changed how all of my relationships went. Now that I’ve been in a stable relationship for a couple years and that my self-esteem has leveled out, I look back on what I did in my teenage years with a slight twinge of regret. Not so much that I wish I wouldn’t have done it – it’s more like I look back onto it feeling sorry for myself – it’s so sad that it’s where my mind was at the time.

It’s amazing how different I’ve become in the short span of four years – it makes me wonder how different I’m going to be at 25 or 30. Four years ago, I was much skinnier than I am now, but I actually have amazing self-esteem compared to when I was in high school. I think it has something to do with being in a steady relationship – less pressure to try and be conventionally attractive to other people. Knowing that I already have someone who finds me sexy makes it so much easier to go “screw you” to the ones that don’t.

But I digress – you want to find out what I regret about my high school years, don’t you? I only held down two separate relationships in high school – after those two, I ended up with my current fiance. The first was a guy named John. (Name is changed, of course.) John was probably one of the larger pariahs of the entire school. Despite being picked on all of the time, I always felt bad for him since people were even worse to him. I’d have random conversations with him to try and be nice to him. After a couple of those conversations, he asked me out. I had severe reservations about it, but since he was the first guy to have ever asked me out, I agreed.

Our relationship was really a joke. I didn’t much care for him, at least, not in a romantic sense. I found it more amusing to see what exactly he’d do for me – nothing horrible, mind you, but asking him to bring over something or odd things like that. He always did whatever I asked him to do. He always smelled awful because he never took showers, and he was one of those guys that is really socially awkward. John was always loud, inappropriate, and just really annoying. But we kept dating despite that.

In fact, I can remember the first time we did anything sexual. I was watching “The Knight’s Tale” and enjoying the movie (which has since been ruined for rewatching by the way) and this guy randomly pulled himself out of his jeans and started masturbating. Right there. On the couch. Next to me. With no sort of sexual interest on my part. I pretended not to notice, but there was a guy. Masturbating. Next to me. WTF? After about five minutes of that (and me pretending not to notice) he grabbed an empty popcorn bag and ejaculated in it.

You know, you think I would have run for the hills after that, but I didn’t. The relationship only lasted for about a month after that with him begging me to have sex with him and inappropriately invading my space and grabbing parts he shouldn’t have with no proper warning or even care. It was like I just existed for him pleasure, and despite how much I hated him, I wanted so badly to feel like someone cared about me that I put up with this.

In fact, I think I would call the “most embarrassing moment” of our “relationship” one that happened during the school lunch hour. After you ate your lunch, every student went into our gymnasium to sit around and talk while letting other shifts eat lunch. When John and I walked into the gymnasium together, the entire 500-count student body erupted in applause and catcalls at me and congrats to John. Insulting his standards and jeering that anyone would ever touch me – two birds with one stone, I guess. The teachers attempted to make them stop, but surprisingly, when it’s an entire gymnasium versus one teacher, it takes a lot of time. I was mortified the entire rest of the day and near tears, and shortly after, I told him I wasn’t going to date him anymore. As much as I wanted a boyfriend, this was killing my self-esteem and making me burst into tears more than it was worth.

That leads up to my next “boyfriend” named Jerry. Jerry wasn’t popular, but he wasn’t a loser either. He wasn’t attractive but had earned his way into acceptance because he was a funny guy and had amazing skills with computers he was always lending out. Jerry and I started off as good friends, and looking back on it, it was a rocky friendship. It was either amazing times or horrible fighting/drama – all the time. Not a stable friendship at all.

One day, he asked me if I’d be willing to be “Friends With Benefits”. As a girl who’d never received any type of positive feedback on her appearance, especially not sexually, I heartily accepted. Of course, I fell into the “sex equals love” trap that so many girls do, and I ended up getting attached to him. However, I’m still not sure why. He was never really attracted to me, and even then, that much was obvious. He wanted sex – and that was it. I think he barely wanted our friendship, but I kept hoping it would be more – it never was.

The sex though – that was really what I feel horrible about. He never would kiss me on the lips – he expressly said the idea of that disgusted him. If I wanted to come over to his house, he’d pick me up in his car – but only if I paid for gas myself even if he’d ignore me if I didn’t come over. As a girl with no job, I turned to the internet and would do random internet surveys for hours at a time in hopes of making enough to go over to his house. When there, he’d ask me to buy him munchies at the local store before we’d go back to his house. If he wanted to have sex, there was no foreplay – ever. He required me to wear long skirts when I went over to his house because he said it was the easiest way to cover up the most skin – oh: I didn’t mention that? He didn’t want to see an ounce of my larger body. All of my clothes always stayed on and having the skirt meant he didn’t have to look at my legs either. It was always missionary while he would look away from my face – and twenty minutes of sex you don’t really want coupled with no foreplay is about the most painful thing ever.

I guess I just figured that was the only way to keep the only friend I had. Afterwards, he’d get straight up and play his games. I’d curl up on the bed and watch him play the games. I never felt close to him, but it was the closest to being a “normal”, “sexual” girl I’d ever felt. It’s so confusing when I think about it – why in the world would I continue to have sex with someone like that? My mother had always told me sex was boring and something only to have to keep your man from straying, but was this really what all the hype was about?

At the time, though, I was happy. I truly thought that it was what a relationship was like. Why wouldn’t I? I’d never had anything to go off of – my days at high school were spent with my locker’s contents being thrown on the floor between classes, people running off with my stuff during class if I didn’t pay attention, insults hurled at me, shaving cream was squirted into the my binder and ruined all of my stuff, being ignored and ridiculed during gym class, and so many other things that made it miserable. I just never fit in – due to my weight and other reasons. When I had the chance, I’d spend time around my sister’s friends, but for the most part, I spent every lunch period hiding in an elementary bathroom so I wouldn’t have to deal with attempting to avoid people.

Am I writing this for pity? No. I’m mostly writing it because it helps me to get it off my chest. Of course, as a secondary reason, it gives you a bit of insight into a fat girl’s high school experience. And as a third-ary reason, I just want it to remind you to be nice to the odd girl out – or just to offer her advice about her relationships. When you’ve never had a relationship and have always wanted one, you’ll accept something subpar – and that’s how a lot of girls end up in abusive or otherwise horrible relationships. I figure that if we all try to make everyone feel more included there has to be some sort of change. Maybe I’m just a bit too hopeful though.