My confidence is beautiful. It was not easy to obtain. It came after years of taunting and abuse, decades of people mooing at me and pretending the ground was shaking as I walked by. Too many years of wanting to die (and two unsuccessful suicide attempts). Hundreds, probably thousands of nights crying myself to sleep begging to whatever deity would listen to let me wake up in a thin body, because then everything would be okay and I’d make friends and have a boyfriend and be able to wear pretty clothes and maybe people wouldn’t look at me with such pity.