I went to a fat camp to lose weight at 18. But when I fell for another camper, I realized the beauty of my own body.

• At 18, I went to a summer camp and met Kat, who was unapologetically confident.
• I fell for Kat and her confidence, and I realized I'm bisexual.

Growing up, I'd heard of these magical places called fat camps where people would go to lose weight. At 18, I was 5-foot-2 and weighed 155 pounds. I thought one of these fat camps would help me emerge as a slimmer version of myself and finally make me worthy of love.

In 2010 I signed up for Camp Shane in upstate New York with this goal.

When I checked into my cabin, I met my roommate, a vivacious blond whose belly bulged through her teal shirt. She greeted me with a bubbly personality: "Hey, you must be my roommate! I'm Kat."

Her confidence helped me fall in love with her and eventually with myself.

I couldn't believe how beautiful my new roommate was

She was about 5-foot-4 and had at least 50 pounds on me. If I was fat, she was fat. She was positively glowing with energy and what appeared to be genuine contentment. Suddenly I imagined how nice it would be to kiss her belly.

The thought confused me. I had a boyfriend. I liked boys. But my interest in Kat only grew.

On the second morning of camp, Kat and I got dressed together before heading off to work out. I peeked at the beautiful way her body curved and dimpled. I wanted to run my fingers across the stretch marks on her arms. Then I looked down at the stretch marks that lined my thighs and felt grossed out.

As the days passed, Kat wore bolder outfits — tighter and brighter. All of them called attention to her body. The day she wore a blue bikini to the pool, I gasped. She looked amazing.

On the Fourth of July we sat on the grass and plopped our sweaty thighs together. The contact sent a jolt through my body. When the fireworks boomed, Kat laced her fingers into mine, and my body tingled. I guided our clasped hands to rest on my thigh. Kat rested her head on my shoulder, and I wanted to melt into her. Then the fireworks ended, and we uncurled ourselves.

We got dressed for bed and returned to our separate bunks. I tried to sleep, but my mind churned with one idea: I'm a raging bisexual. It was terrifying.

I ran away to process that I was bisexual and more confused about my body than ever

The next morning I called my dad. I begged him to come and take me home. He wasn't pleased. He'd spent $3,500 on this two-week getaway, and now I was asking to ditch four days early. But he gave in, and I slunk away from camp.

As I rode the three hours home in silence, I thought about Kat. How did she manage to be gorgeous at her size? Why were her stretch marks cute but mine were tracks of shame?

Slowly, the answers seeped into my consciousness. She was the one who gave herself permission to be confident. But I'd been at the same camp, and I'd felt bombarded by the message that to be attractive or worthy I had to change myself dramatically. Had fat camp failed me? I'd lost 8 pounds, but I was more confused about myself than ever.

Looking out the car window, I tried to shake off the idea that I'd more or less just come out to myself. It was all too much. I couldn't process all of it without crying in the car next to my agitated father.

Over time I realized I'm worthy of the love I saw in Kat

As the weeks passed I thought a lot about Kat and the excitement she'd stirred up in me. Eventually I accepted that I like girls.

At the same time, I started to understand that that excitement probably wasn't just about my sexuality. I realized that as she paraded around in cute summer outfits, I witnessed how attractive it is to be comfortable in one's own body.

I realized that no matter how much weigh, I could be comfortable in my body, too. It's intoxicating.