The Mirror Never Lies

It started with a word. Just one little tiny word. Fat. It had been a joke, she had been teasing. But still. Were my favorite jeans getting a little too snug? That Tee that I’d bought a couple months ago too tight? It’s all my imagination. Maybe. Couldn’t hurt to cut back on candy. Besides, candy isn’t good for you. A healthy diet is a good thing, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s working. The mirror never lies. So I’ll put less on my plate. There’ll be more for others. Mom, I don’t want that casserole. Do you know how many calories it has? And the fat content? Good God, are you trying to fatten me up? I don’t want to look like a cow. Thank you very much. My face is round like the moon Is that a double chin I see? I’ve been doing sports year round. It doesn’t show. At all. I think it has gotten worse. Everyone says it’s muscle. They’re lying. I can see the truth. In the mirror I mean. The mirror never lies. I don’t get it. Everyone says I need to eat more. I’m too thin. Can’t they see that I’m fat? Those old baggy clothes they show me mean nothing. I was so fat I stretched my clothes out. But not anymore. It’s better now. Sort of. My arms are still big. Those thighs still jiggle. And the stomach fat. Let’s not go there. Instead, let’s go to the mirror. I’ve learned not to trust the scale anymore. I look into the mirror And see a fat sixteen-year-old girl. I look down at myself. Ribs jutting out Legs as thin as sticks. The dress sizes have flown by 6…4…2... I don’t see any fat. Don’t feel fat either. I feel worn down, sickly, and tired. So very tired. But when I look into the mirror I don’t see my bones Or the dark circles under my eyes I see a fat body. The mirror never lies.