Why I hate fats At 13, I was 5"6 and 235 pounds. My mother fed me countless beetus, and I hated myself. I couldn't fit into the sizes at normal stores, and my fat mother constantly told me I was beautiful. That wasn't what made me hate fats. What made me hate fats was that when I dropped 105 pounds, they would say shit like "Wow, puberty sure hit somebody hard!" and "Honey, I knew you'd get your growth spurt!" They are so ignorant. As a teenager, the fact that my own mother wouldn't even acknowledge the blood, sweat and tears I put into undoing her mistake was crushing. All of my fat relatives had no idea just how much junk food I turned down, how hard I worked, just to treat my body right and get it to a normal state. They would just sit there and go, "Teehee, she's got good genetics! Too bad mine suck." I want to punch their fat fucking faces in. Especially when they whine about being fat. Get off your lazy ass and work for it.