Letter to Ana

Dear Ana,

You told me you would make me pretty

(but said nothing about thin).

You told me you would give me attention 

(but mentioned nothing about guilt).

You told me you were stubborn.

You told me you would never leave me alone.

You won

(for a little while).

You played so many tricks on me

without me even realizing. 

You made me believe that you were right and

I was wrong.

You were wrong. 

You are wrong. 

You made me hurt and 

alone and

scared. 

You lied 

(about almost everything).

You never told me I could forge swords out of 

courage and

determination and 

vulnerability.

I learned. 

I made my own weapons:

plastic forks

and covered mirrors

and a full bowl of pasta (with sauce).

I fought. I fought for days and weeks and months and

years. 

I am fighting now. 

How lovely is that?

Love, 

me

P.S. My ribs are covered again