The Small Girl

I have always been the small girl. The short girl ,the skinny girl, the I can wrap my fingers around her wrist girl. The eat a cheeseburger girl.

Soon, there was a new girl a new small girl, I was gaining weight. I watched the number move from 90 to 100 to 110 and I started to hate myself for it, for each pound I gained I was straying further from the Small girl, the girl I knew.

The counts her calories girl, The I can see your ribcage girl, The apple for lunch girl, The always going to the bathroom after eating girl, Always chewing gum girl. I was not myself.

The small girl was still the small girl, I striving to be her. To be small. To be anything but these few extra pounds. It was always just a few extra pounds.

The never eating girl. The I can wrap my fingers around her thighs girl. The going to the hospital girl. The BMI lower than her age girl. The recovery girl.

I am not the small girl. Sometimes I still wish I was. Each victory of mine is a simple feat to the average person. I am no longer the girl of hospital beds and impatient and throwing up.

The I had a donut for breakfast girl. I ate my apple without cutting it into tiny pieces first girl. The I ate when I was hungry girl. The recovery is hard work girl.

But sometimes, I see this small girl in the hallways, And in the back of my head I know I would do anything to be her. But I won’t, Instead I will eat this apple,

Without cutting it up first.