Life is a tricky house, full of traps and pitfalls that can be just as easy to fall into as they are to avoid. But as you progress, you learn more about these holes in the ground as they lure you in with delectable wonders and promises of a future you'll surely achieve. And some of them you fall into by accident, the twisted punishment for not paying attention. Some pitfalls are easy to climb out of but others will see you on your way out, grip you tight, and force you back down...
***
The dining room felt almost welcoming as I took a set. Before me was a plate that I'd delicately prepared for myself. Five apple slices and a small handful of almonds. To lot of people this might look like a light snack, but for me it was my second and final meal of the day. And judging by the sounds my stomach was making, it was time to devour. But I hesitated.
I'd planned to take my phone out and snap a picture to post online, much like I did for every meal. My followers needed something to let them know that eating light was the best thing they could do to achieve their weight-loss goals. I've been an influencer for a while now, sharing advice online about what I'd been putting my body through for years. I'd heard so many stories of women and men who used to hate their bodies, now living their lives in the body of their dreams.
But if I've helped so many people, then why am I so heart-broken right now? I'd ask myself as I stared down at my plate, sickened and disgusted with myself. With the world around me for making me feel this way. What gives people the right to call out bodies disgusting? I was quickly reminded of the family members who said they were worried about me. They wanted to get me help because they thought my weight loss journey had gone too far. I had to stop eating out in public because I could feel all the eyes burning into me, judging me. All the comments I'd hear under people's breaths that I needed to eat more, as if that would help.
People don't understand how bad I mentally spiral out of control if I even attempt to eat something that has too much fat or too much sugar in it. They don't know what it does to my body. I've reached such a point that there are things it rejects outright. It's a horrible existence that I wouldn't wish on anyone. That's why I tell my followers to be careful and love themselves and their bodies. I don't want them to fall down the same trap that I did.
But earlier today I saw something. A video online surfaced on my feed that crushed my soul to pieces. It was a little girl, she must have been about 8 years old, maybe 10. The poor girl was wiping tears from her eyes as she talked about being made fun of at school for being "too fat". That poor girl. She didn't even look the slightest bit overweight. She looked perfect just the way she was. Then she said she asked her parents and they agreed. They laughed about it even. That hurt to hear more than anything. I wanted to hold her, to reach through the phone and tell her it was okay, that she looked perfect. I tried leaving her a comment but she had them turned off. Did she do that because she feared being bullied on here too? That poor girl.
And it didn't just crush me to hear her story, to hear that she wanted to go hungry for a few days. That part made me almost angry for her. A longing to fight off her bullies. But the most soul-crushing part of it all was how deeply it reminded me of myself growing up.
I remember finishing my plate before anyone else at the dining room table and going back for seconds. My parents and siblings joking that I was going to get fat. I didn't think anything of it until I heard it at school from the people closest to me. I always hung around the popular kids in school, knowing full well I was a part of them. The girls I hung around with and gossiped to, they looked up to me like I was the one in charge of the group. All the boys had crushes on us but especially me.
But after I returned to school in 8th grade, my friends noticed that I had put on some weight. Apparently everyone else in my grade saw it as well. Sure, over the summer I didn't exercise as much as I normally did. And sure, I was finishing a lot more plates of spaghetti than I was proud to admit, but I didn't expect for it to affect me that much. I guess the weight gain had been so gradual that I barely noticed it. But everyone else sure did.
My friends brought up my weight from time to time and I tried to ignore it. But they still looked petite and pretty, as they always had. And I started noticing them getting more attention from boys while I got brushed off like the crust on a peanut butter sandwich. I knew I had to get my figure back and fast. I looked online as much as I could but I kept coming to the same conclusions. Eat less and exercise more. Heck, my friends even encouraged it. I remember coming to school so hungry I could barely walk. But all the compliments I was getting was worth it all. I was getting attention from nearly every boy in my grade. They swooned over me more than they had any year prior. And the pain was worth the power I felt.
Even though I was sitting where I wanted to with my body, I couldn't stop. I mean, I had to stop exercising after a while because I could feel myself getting exhausted much easier and I was reaching a point of near collapse. I didn't understand why at the time, but I know better now. I've done my research. And I should have taken that as my sign to stop what I was doing and get some help. But I didn't. I couldn't. I was receiving too much praise because of how great I looked and my brain was hooked on finding the right foods and the right amount of calories to eat a day to keep the weight off. And I kept pushing and kept pushing, further and further until I was where I am today.
I can't go to restaurants without being stared at, hearing "What's wrong with her?" under their breaths. The friends who try to buy you food to eat but don't understand the hell that puts me through. I've reached a point where even the smell of a burger makes me nauseous. And I hate it. I hate what I've done to myself. I hate the cruelty the world spat out at me and made me do to myself. Made that poor little girl plan to do to herself. All the people the world judges because their bodies don't look perfect enough. How dare they!
I could feel that hatred bubbling up inside of me. The distain I had for people that can't stop judging. Who cares what they look like? They're perfect just as they are. They don't need to change anything about themselves. Those cruel people don't understand what it's like to sit in our skin. In my skin. And they never will.
The thoughts were leaving my eyes swelling as tears rolled down my cheeks. This was it. This was the push I needed to put an end to this. To get better. Not for myself but for that little girl. To show her something that I wish had been shown to me all those years ago. You're perfect just the way you are. And as for now, I'm going to finish what's on my plate. Tomorrow, everything changes for the better.
I'd planned to take my phone out and snap a picture to post online, much like I did for every meal. My followers needed something to let them know that eating light was the best thing they could do to achieve their weight-loss goals. I've been an influencer for a while now, sharing advice online about what I'd been putting my body through for years. I'd heard so many stories of women and men who used to hate their bodies, now living their lives in the body of their dreams.
But if I've helped so many people, then why am I so heart-broken right now? I'd ask myself as I stared down at my plate, sickened and disgusted with myself. With the world around me for making me feel this way. What gives people the right to call out bodies disgusting? I was quickly reminded of the family members who said they were worried about me. They wanted to get me help because they thought my weight loss journey had gone too far. I had to stop eating out in public because I could feel all the eyes burning into me, judging me. All the comments I'd hear under people's breaths that I needed to eat more, as if that would help.
People don't understand how bad I mentally spiral out of control if I even attempt to eat something that has too much fat or too much sugar in it. They don't know what it does to my body. I've reached such a point that there are things it rejects outright. It's a horrible existence that I wouldn't wish on anyone. That's why I tell my followers to be careful and love themselves and their bodies. I don't want them to fall down the same trap that I did.
But earlier today I saw something. A video online surfaced on my feed that crushed my soul to pieces. It was a little girl, she must have been about 8 years old, maybe 10. The poor girl was wiping tears from her eyes as she talked about being made fun of at school for being "too fat". That poor girl. She didn't even look the slightest bit overweight. She looked perfect just the way she was. Then she said she asked her parents and they agreed. They laughed about it even. That hurt to hear more than anything. I wanted to hold her, to reach through the phone and tell her it was okay, that she looked perfect. I tried leaving her a comment but she had them turned off. Did she do that because she feared being bullied on here too? That poor girl.
And it didn't just crush me to hear her story, to hear that she wanted to go hungry for a few days. That part made me almost angry for her. A longing to fight off her bullies. But the most soul-crushing part of it all was how deeply it reminded me of myself growing up.
I remember finishing my plate before anyone else at the dining room table and going back for seconds. My parents and siblings joking that I was going to get fat. I didn't think anything of it until I heard it at school from the people closest to me. I always hung around the popular kids in school, knowing full well I was a part of them. The girls I hung around with and gossiped to, they looked up to me like I was the one in charge of the group. All the boys had crushes on us but especially me.
But after I returned to school in 8th grade, my friends noticed that I had put on some weight. Apparently everyone else in my grade saw it as well. Sure, over the summer I didn't exercise as much as I normally did. And sure, I was finishing a lot more plates of spaghetti than I was proud to admit, but I didn't expect for it to affect me that much. I guess the weight gain had been so gradual that I barely noticed it. But everyone else sure did.
My friends brought up my weight from time to time and I tried to ignore it. But they still looked petite and pretty, as they always had. And I started noticing them getting more attention from boys while I got brushed off like the crust on a peanut butter sandwich. I knew I had to get my figure back and fast. I looked online as much as I could but I kept coming to the same conclusions. Eat less and exercise more. Heck, my friends even encouraged it. I remember coming to school so hungry I could barely walk. But all the compliments I was getting was worth it all. I was getting attention from nearly every boy in my grade. They swooned over me more than they had any year prior. And the pain was worth the power I felt.
Even though I was sitting where I wanted to with my body, I couldn't stop. I mean, I had to stop exercising after a while because I could feel myself getting exhausted much easier and I was reaching a point of near collapse. I didn't understand why at the time, but I know better now. I've done my research. And I should have taken that as my sign to stop what I was doing and get some help. But I didn't. I couldn't. I was receiving too much praise because of how great I looked and my brain was hooked on finding the right foods and the right amount of calories to eat a day to keep the weight off. And I kept pushing and kept pushing, further and further until I was where I am today.
I can't go to restaurants without being stared at, hearing "What's wrong with her?" under their breaths. The friends who try to buy you food to eat but don't understand the hell that puts me through. I've reached a point where even the smell of a burger makes me nauseous. And I hate it. I hate what I've done to myself. I hate the cruelty the world spat out at me and made me do to myself. Made that poor little girl plan to do to herself. All the people the world judges because their bodies don't look perfect enough. How dare they!
I could feel that hatred bubbling up inside of me. The distain I had for people that can't stop judging. Who cares what they look like? They're perfect just as they are. They don't need to change anything about themselves. Those cruel people don't understand what it's like to sit in our skin. In my skin. And they never will.
The thoughts were leaving my eyes swelling as tears rolled down my cheeks. This was it. This was the push I needed to put an end to this. To get better. Not for myself but for that little girl. To show her something that I wish had been shown to me all those years ago. You're perfect just the way you are. And as for now, I'm going to finish what's on my plate. Tomorrow, everything changes for the better.
***
That night as I slept, I had a rather twisted dream. I dreamt that I was in the bathroom, throwing up a large meal I'd eaten earlier that day. It was a plate of lasagna. The messed up thing was I loved eating it. It was the best thing I'd had in a long time. I was weeks into recovery at that point in the dream, which is why I was even more unsure as to why eating it disgusted me so much. I stood from the toilet and flushed, trying to avoid looking inside.
I walked over to the mirror and that's when I heard the voice...
"Did you really think I'd let you stop starving yourself?" the voice rasped. It sounded like my voice but twisted in a way that sounded cruel, almost unrecognizable. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
"Who are you?" I asked as I looked around, the fear quivering my throat. "Why can't I see you?"
"I'm right here!" It shouted as I felt my head jerk toward the mirror. Looking into my reflection, I saw its face twisted into an evil smile, its eyes burning into mine. I couldn't move from where it stuck me.
"Did you really think it'd be that easy to kill me off? To try and get rid of me? There's nothing wrong with starving yourself after all. You've done it to yourself all this time and you're still alive, right?" It made me nod. "Then why stop now? You've achieved your perfect body! You're helping other people around the world who want to be just like you!"
It began to chuckle, its cruel laughter ringing in my ears.
"Stop it!" I cried. I fought back hard to regain control of my body, to break free from its hold on me. I fell backward, hitting my head hard on the bathroom wall. "I'm done," I said weakly as the world started to fade out. "You're not in control anymore. I am..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
I walked over to the mirror and that's when I heard the voice...
"Did you really think I'd let you stop starving yourself?" the voice rasped. It sounded like my voice but twisted in a way that sounded cruel, almost unrecognizable. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
"Who are you?" I asked as I looked around, the fear quivering my throat. "Why can't I see you?"
"I'm right here!" It shouted as I felt my head jerk toward the mirror. Looking into my reflection, I saw its face twisted into an evil smile, its eyes burning into mine. I couldn't move from where it stuck me.
"Did you really think it'd be that easy to kill me off? To try and get rid of me? There's nothing wrong with starving yourself after all. You've done it to yourself all this time and you're still alive, right?" It made me nod. "Then why stop now? You've achieved your perfect body! You're helping other people around the world who want to be just like you!"
It began to chuckle, its cruel laughter ringing in my ears.
"Stop it!" I cried. I fought back hard to regain control of my body, to break free from its hold on me. I fell backward, hitting my head hard on the bathroom wall. "I'm done," I said weakly as the world started to fade out. "You're not in control anymore. I am..."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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