"There will always be the older white woman in Walmart who stared at us with sheer disgust, or the African-American mother who looked at us and just shook her head.”
I saw the eight-year-old with paralyzing anxiety, the 13-year-old who battled anorexia, the 19-year-old lost and unsure in her own skin, the 27-year-old determined to run her pain away, the 31-year-old blacked out on the couch, and the 36-year-old who had finally learned to love herself.
“For me, it was hitting rock bottom and it was a wake-up call. Honestly, it was the day that my boyfriend and I had broken up and it had nothing to do with him. But it was just the moment that I was really broken and I was really upset."
