Image: iStock.
By: Jenna Meyer.
I was 16 and staring at my bikini-clad body in a full length mirror, a disgusted scowl on my face.
“My legs are too short and fat,” I said, squeezing the flesh on the backs of my thighs to make them appear thinner.
My father looked at me and shook his head. “You’re perfect.”
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I rolled my eyes.
“And my waist isn’t small enough. I look like a square. Like a boy.”
Again, and with the same earnestness, he said, “You’re perfect.”