When I was in middle school, I started noticing little red marks on my hips, thighs, boobs and arms. I figured out they were “stretch marks” - and to my knowledge and feeling, nothing about these marks were beautiful. I spent the next 15 years or so ashamed of them. I would obsessively workout my arms and go to the tanning bed, hoping it would help. I’d put makeup on my stomach and thighs before wearing a swimsuit in public.
Guess what? At my thinnest and lightest weight, they were still there and I did everything in my power to try and cover them up.