Almost all of us have something we dislike about our body - a chubby tummy, crow's feet or a spot of cellulite. Often, we magnify and exaggerate these supposed faults in our own minds while our friends see us as perfectly normal - even beautiful. But in extreme cases it is known as body dysmorphic disorder, a form of crippling distorted self-image that affects one in every 100 women in the UK. Here, four such women describe how they see themselves. The photos on the right of each woman have been digitally altered by them to illustrate exactly what they see in the mirror.

RACHEAL BAUGHAN, 27, from Crawley in Sussex, is an entrepreneur who runs her own modelling agency. She has written a book, The Butterfly Girl, about her body-image problems. She says:

Although it is embarrassing letting people know what I see in the mirror, at least it helps to explain what I deal with on a daily basis.

Body fears: Racheal can't see her model-like looks and thinks she is ugly

It was like a form of therapy flipping back and forth between the two pictures of me because I could actually study the difference. But if I stop and look at the first unaltered picture, I feel repulsed and sick to the stomach.

The way I try to explain it is that while some people have a phobia of spiders, I have a fear of my own face and body.

Every time I see my reflection or a picture of myself I have to catch my breath: I see someone who is different from anyone else I've ever seen before, like an alien.

In the same way someone who wants a sex change doesn't feel like they're in the right body, I don't either. But unlike them, I don't know what body I should be in.

I see my eyes as bulging, yet somehow also sunken with purple bags underneath. I hate my nose, and I also think the right-hand side of my face is different to the left. It makes me uncomfortable if friends even walk on that side of me - I have to switch places.

I see my lips as flat, and the top one doesn't match the lower lip. My neck is too long and makes me feel like a duck, my eyebrows are too high and in my mind's eye my skin is always covered with acne.

I think that body-image problems have been with me all my life. Even when I was four years old I was so shy. I remember being at a party when I was that age and looking around, thinking how I was different from the other children.

'I didn't leave the house and wouldn't be seen without a veil or a mask'

I thought I didn't deserve to be in the world. I was bullied at school and had only one friend, who sadly died in a car accident when we were 13.

I developed obsessive compulsive disorder and used to wash my face 30 times every night and would have to open and close my wardrobe doors ten times.

I also developed an eating disorder. Although it was obviously to do with my weight, it had more to do with control. My best friend was gone and my weight was the only thing I could control. I started to make myself sick.

For seven years, I didn't leave the house and wouldn't be seen without a veil or a mask. I even tried to cut the fat off my legs with a knife and I took an overdose when I was 15.

It wasn't until 2004 that my life started to change for the better. I was promoted to a sales role at the gym where I worked and my mother, without me knowing, entered me for the Miss England contest in an attempt to try to show how others viewed me.

With the support of Mum and my brother, I actually managed to walk on to the stage alongside all the other beautiful girls. I found it very upsetting, but at the same time I felt like a weight had been lifted.

I'm not saying I was cured, but it gave me the strength to move forward with my life.

REBECCA OWEN, 42, is a community support worker from Tadworth, in Surrey. She has suffered body-image problems for 26 years. She says:

I struggle to look at both the before and after photographs of myself: I see myself as fat in both images. But my main focus is my face. My face does fill out when I am at a healthier weight and I hate it.

Distorted self-image: Skinny Rebecca thinks she looks overweight

I really struggled to pose for the pictures because I never smile in photos as I think it makes my face look even bigger.

The altered image is a good representation of what I think I look like, though. I see myself like Popeye - bulging muscly arms, broad shoulders and a wide face.

When my boyfriend saw the pictures, he couldn't understand why I didn't like the original. He said it made him realise how ill I really am.

I've had anorexia since I was 16, and it manifested itself as body dysmorphic disorder.

I can tell myself that technically I'm not fat, but when I look in the mirror I can actually see the blobs of fat everywhere - especially on my arms and face - and I feel big and chunky.

I represented the county as a competitive runner until I was 15, and when I gave that up I became terrified that my muscle would turn to fat. So I started dieting and exercising. It quickly spiralled out of control.

'I know my body is emaciated but I still see a fat person in the mirror'

I was first hospitalised for being underweight at 17. It kept happening - sometimes for up to three years at a time - until I was 30. I nearly died a few times, and survived for quite a few years at around 4-and-a-half-stone.

I turned a corner in my 30s when I took a job as a community support worker dealing with mental health issues.

It was a real milestone for me, and for the first time I felt I was earning a living and looking after myself. This year I've put on half a stone, but I have another half a stone to go before I reach a healthy weight.

I've also started psychotherapy, which they don't allow until you're a healthier weight, to try to uncover the root cause of my body dysmorphic disorder.

I am still plagued by a distorted self-image. I know that my body is emaciated but I still see a fat person staring back at me in the mirror.

One of my biggest regrets is not having children. My eating problems made me so ill that my fertility was affected for a long time, plus I'm 42 now.

But my biggest fear is getting ill again and not coping with a child.

DANIELLE NULTY, 27, from Suffolk, is a sales representative for a food company. She says:

Looking at these two photos actually helps. Seeing the real one of myself shows me that things I see when I look in the mirror, like the oversized nose and long chin, are not really there.

Recovering: Danielle is learning that the hang-ups she has about her face are not how she truly looks

It makes me realise how powerful my body-image problems can be. It's strange because I was never brought up to worry about my appearance.

I was a tomboy up until the age of 13, but then my parents split up and everything changed. People are quick to blame the separation, but I believe there has to be a propensity within you to body dysmorphia from the start.

I went from not caring about how I looked to layering on camouflage foundation by the time I was 14.

I used a special product intended for people who are physically scarred, called Dermablend, which I got from a junior make-up artist course.

Applying it became a ritual - I would get up at about 6am every day to put it on. The reason was that in the mirror I saw my skin as pale like a corpse and heavily lined.

On very bad days, in my mind my lines became really enhanced so I thought I looked wrinkled and old - even when I was still a teenager.

'In my mind, my skin looked wrinkled and old, even when I was a teenager'

I used to be outgoing but I had become withdrawn and very tearful. My doctor just put it down to depression and put me on Prozac at 14. It made me feel better for a few weeks, but then I just grew worse.

I started to miss a lot of school and wouldn't go out at all. I became obsessed with checking myself in the mirror, sometimes hundreds of times a day. It got so bad that sometimes I really believed I could see the lines deepening as I looked in the mirror.

When I asked Mum if she could see them, too, she told me I didn't have any lines and it made me really angry - nobody can help when you're in the grip of body dysmorphic disorder.

After that, I was referred to a psychiatrist whom I saw three times a week for clinical depression. I ended up trying nearly every type of antidepressant.

I was on and off the pills until I was about 18, but by the time I was 21 I was learning to handle it better.

Finally, at 25, I was properly diagnosed and given a medication called Cipralex. I remember telling Mum that it was a 'wonder pill' as it made my skin look nicer.

I realised then that the defects I'd seen before weren't so bad. Some people mistake body dysmorphia for vanity. But it's not about wanting to look perfect, just normal so you fit in.

CASSI JONES, 17, from Carshalton in Surrey, is a fashion student whose problems started when she was bullied about her appearance from the age of 11. She says:

I've never been photogenic and I don't like the way I look in either of these photographs.

I know the altered picture looks ridiculous, but I think the original photo looks ridiculous, too. I hate both of them.

Bullied: Cassi was called names at school and has grown up unable to believe she is beautiful

I'm nervous about explaining what I don't like about myself because I worry that pointing out the faults will make other people notice them all the more.

The main problem is my face: in my mind, my nose has a bump and turns up at the end like a ski slope.

My lips are too large and I have a pointy chin. My eyes are too wide apart and I wear a fringe to cover my forehead. In short, I don't like the proportion of my facial features.

I see myself as looking like a Picasso painting: my facial features are mixed up and need to be put back together again.

Even having my make-up done in front of a mirror for these photos was an achievement for me.

I was diagnosed with body dysmorphic disorder in 2007, but I think I had it for a long time before that.

'I see myself as looking like a Picasso painting: my facial features are mixed up'

Up until 11, I was fine with how I was, then I started being bullied at school. The other girls used to say I looked like an alien and really hurtful things.

As a result, by the time I was 13, I was obsessed with mirrors. I used to pull different faces and scrutinise myself, even eat in front of the mirror, watching myself and how my face looked from different angles.

I'd become really anxious when I couldn't get to a mirror, which was really hard at school.

Sometimes I feel very guilty when I see people who are disabled or who have burns scarring on their face. But the truth is that on a bad day I think I look much worse than that.

It sounds like I just want attention or that I'm vain, but it's not that - it's just the opposite.

Mum's friends used to say I could be a model, so she doesn't understand why I feel like this.

My boyfriend Nick, who's 18, and my best friends are the only ones who really understand.