The first person to tell me I was too fat was my dad. I was 12. I wasn't exactly huge, but he repeatedly said how I "needed to lose the puppy fat". At one point as I was developing he said "you're busting out of that dress". At the dinner table, to a self conscious teenager. I have never stopped worrying about my weight since and have had periods of disordered eating - the only reason I never got as far as full blown bulimia was because no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't make myself sick. Knowing my dad thought I was fat and ugly made the comments from kids at school sting even more. I was called "saggy tits" by kids three years below me for a while... A legacy partly of feeling too ashamed of my body to know how to ask my mum to get me a better bra.