Skinny

Maybe I should skip breakfast, and lunch, and dinner today…I mean I’m hungry of course, but I can’t see my rib cage as well anymore. I used to think I looked great, I was confident, not too confident but I wasn’t turning my face away from the mirror, I looked myself straight in the eye and I was okay with what stared back at me….until my best friend who I thought was perfect started complaining that she was fat. Then suddenly everything stopped, that’s fat? That’s what fat looks like? Oh god if that’s what fat looks like I’m in trouble. I started to feel myself shrink away, feeling like I wasn’t worthy enough to occupy the space around me. Like the size of my waist was more important than my SAT scores, I became obsessed with society’s idea of perfection. I looked people in the eye to see if they looked at me with as much disappointment as I did looking at myself in the mirror everyday. I could no longer hold eye contact with myself for more than five seconds without turning away and having the grumbling of my stomach drown out the thoughts in my head that told me that skinny is better. That no one would ever love me unless my collarbones stuck out like knives, sharpened to protect myself from those who lie and tell me I look great that day. What do you mean I look great? I ate a banana and if I don’t go to the bathroom and throw it up I think I might die, I look great? My eyes are dead from the countless nights spent staring at other girls on a screen telling me what I needed to look like. And I know if I keep going like this I’ll drive myself to ruin, but dead girls are skinnier.

-t.l.j