I grew up with a mom with weight problems, and I was a fat kid. My two sisters and dad were normal weight and my mom was very thin. She never talked to me about her weight struggle, and I--just like you--internalized the blame. Unfortunately, society hates fat people and as a kid I was the only one in my class who was overweight. Being a fat kid dominated my sense of myself. I still dislike clothes shopping because of buying "husky" sized clothes. My mom didn't exactly harp on my weight but it was a topic (often unspoken) and I knew it. I got two messages: be thin, but eat all you want of this delicious food I just cooked. My parents tried to pretend it wasn't happening, and I--like you--started dieting young in a desperate search for help. Now in my 50s I've also made peace with it. My mom was bipolar and struggled my whole life (from 2 to 18) with being in and out of the hospital. I don't think she did any of it on purpose, because I don't think she was capable of having an emotionally honest and open conversation with me--but sometimes I wonder. My husband told me his mom admitted to him that she overfed him and his younger brother to keep them fat so they would never find girlfriends and leave.