TRIGGER WARNING: This story will deal with anorexia and bulimia. This story is meant to bring awareness to the issue that comes along with these diseases, the expectations and beliefs that women are expected to deal with. However, if these things trigger you or hurt you, please do not read this story. I love you and you can get through whatever you’re dealing with.
I must be beautiful for I must be loved. I must be able to count the foods I’ve eaten and the calories that I have partaken in must be memorized. I must be able to feel the bones that look almost as though they are bursting through my skin.
Because bones are beautiful and I must be beautiful. The idea that my thighs might touch disgusts me and the image after eating a cupcake haunts me every time I think of giving into my desires. The sweet taste of the sugar as it touches my lips almost seals my fate of the ugly inside as my stomach expands.
For only bones can be beautiful and everyone knows sugar can only be free of the ugly it brings if you do not keep it inside. It started as a whim, curiosity that flooded me and I didnt think of the consequences that may come. I didn’t even look it up because I didn’t think the warnings would happen to me.
But then I noticed, the way it was easier after the first time and then even easier after that. I became scared of my own body as it began desiring that feeling of the food purging itself. I would eat more and more until I could not ignore the feeling anymore. The pit of my stomach and the burning of my throat was the constant reminder of what I had done and the way it made me feel.
I finally looked up the warnings, finally understanding that I am who they speak of on those warning labels and I wonder how nobody has noticed my fluctuating weight the way that I have. The body that I have once loved, watching it become smaller was now my biggest fear. I stopped the purging, I ignored the burning of my throat and the pit of my stomach as I pretended to believe that I was okay even though I knew I wasn’t.
But the feeling kept coming, a monster that wouldn’t go away as I noticed my body change. The way that my pants were no longer baggy or the way the shirt began sticking to my skin. The burning and the pit of my stomach had yet to leave and one day, I chose not to eat anything.
The burning went away, and I felt nothing in my stomach. The feeling was gone and it was a feeling I cherished so much that I didn’t feel the hunger that gnawed at me the next day. I continued to ignore the hunger, relishing in the beauty of my body as it seemed to shrink magically in the mirror. I wasn’t hungry but I was beautiful. Because bones are what make you beautiful and loved, and it was only after a time that I can not remember any more that I felt truly loved and it was long after my body stopped changing because I was no longer living.
This story was about 3 or 4 words short of 250, which was the word limit for the story which is why it is so short. However, I don’t think the length of this story matters but rather the contents.
The story was raw and emotional for me, and it is something that every girl has struggled with and perhaps for some of them, they don’t ever go as far as bulimia or anorexia however the idea of self image weighs down on all of us.
I thought this story was perfect during Women’s History Month, this story resonates with women and teenage girls. They can see this story and see the effects and I think it’s important during Women’s History Month to take notice in the expectations of women.
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