I just read this entire post and need to add my two cents. I can remember being 7 or 8 years old. My father had just re-married (wife #3) a very thin, blond beauty (read: trophy wife). She was not a nice lady. It was summer time and I was visiting dad for the summer. We were at the pool and I was in a two piece bathing suit. Step monster began admonishing me to stand up straight and suck in my fat gut because I was embarrassing her. I was mortified. She kept poking at my stomach and started calling me chunky. She would only do that out of ear-shot of dad, of course. He never understood my deep and sincere dislike for that woman.

That was the beginning of my battle with body image. My dad got custody of me soon after. She had me on diets from day one. So, out of rebellion I would eat when no-one was around. I was on the swim team in high school, swimming over a mile a day 5 days a week and still thought I was huge. Incredible. It was only in my late 20's did I realize that my personal happiness is my own responsibility and that blaming my woes on my lousy childhood was a dead end. Learning to love one's self can be a lengthy process. At least it has been for me....