I was born fat. As a baby, my uncle gave me the unfortunate nickname, “gordita,” which is used as a form of endearment in Spanish. It stuck with me through my early life. My brother was about 8 when he realized it literally translated to, “fatty” and stomped the endearment right out of it. Which prompted me to ask my mom, “am I fat?”

My mom was quick to reassure me. “Of course not. It’s just baby fat.”

But what was just baby fat? And how could “it” just be baby fat, if I was already five years old! I hadn’t been a baby for years.

The next year, I found myself standing high on top of the diving board during my guppy-level swimming lessons. I was petrified, tiny feet frozen to the wobbly board, unconvinced that my red life jacket would be able to hold me up once I…