After years of starving myself to be thin,
Rewarding myself when I ate far too little,
And forcing myself to vomit if I ate “too much”,
Obsessively counting calories,
And working my body to it’s breaking point
Carving the word “FAT” into my upper thigh as a reminder.
“Don’t eat”, I’d tell myself.
“Food makes you fat.”
“Food makes you weak.”
An apple was no longer an apple.
An apple was 60 more crunches before bed.
Food didn’t bring pleasure, but dread.
“Have you lost weight?” they’d say. “You look great!”
Thank you, I’ve been living off an average of 200 calories a day,
And I feel like I’m dying.
My hair is weak and brittle,
My lips are dry.
I'm so hungry.
This isn't living.
I think of my mom,
And can only think "sorry".
I'm sorry I hurt this body you gave up everything to raise.
I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you told me I was beautiful.
And I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner.
After years of obsessing over what I saw in the mirror,
I came to a realization.
If I’m so ready to speak lovingly to my friends and family,
If I’m so willing to remind them they’re beautiful,
And support them unconditionally,
Why would I do the opposite to myself?
Look at this body.
This body is strong.
This body is beautiful.
My stomach is beautiful,
And so are my thighs.
The extra fat on my upper arms and the cellulite running down my legs.
To my body,
Because I love you,
I’ll treat you right.