My mom says,

"You look beautiful today"
She asks "have you lost any weight honey? Here's a salad before you go to work.
You dont want to get fat"

Mom says, life is always easier for skinny girls and that I haven't had it easy so maybe my weight is the problem.

I tell her I'm comfortable.
But as I walk away, I find myself gazing into my bedroom mirror pinching at the fat on my stomach
Wishing it was nothing but paper, because then I could cut it off and maybe then I would be happy and maybe then my mom would think I was good enough.
Mom says, "those leggings aren't flattering on you. And don't you know what people will say about you if you walk around dressed like that? Hide your body. Hide your curves, the world doesn't need to see your fat seeping through those nylon pants. "

I yell back " I don't care what you think! I LIKE THEM"
Mom says "yes you do, I know you do. Now go change and come eat your salad."

I force feed myself a salad for the 5th time this week and change into a baggy sweatshirt and some sweatpants.

I want to believe that I don't care what she thinks but her words feel like bee stings prickling my entire body and no matter how many times they attack, I don't grow numb to them.

I weighed myself today, I lost 5 pounds this week but im starting to feel sick from hunger, I'm light headed.

I head downstairs, the thought of inhaling every carb we have in the kitchen because it's been 2 weeks since ive had one and the cravings are too strong.

Just as I'm about to make some pasta mom comes into the kitchen.

"You look amazing," she says.
"You're so beautiful hunny I'm so proud of you. Wait... is that pasta? What are you doing? If you eat that you'll get fat again. If you're fat you won't be happy. You can't be happy. Put that down. Here's a pill for you hunny"

Take it when you're hungry, it'll take away the cravings and surpress your appetite.

I take the stupid pills that mom seems to think work like magic and I go back up to my room, staring at this body of mine that doesn't feel like mine anymore.

I hate myself.
I hate that I want to eat carbs and I hate that I dream of sugar every night.
I hate that my mom thinks I need a pill to fix who I am, as if I am unlovable when i am not losing weight.
Even as her daughter.

Growing up, we're always taught that our mothers are our protectors...
But I realize now my mother is the reason I never feel like I'm good enough.
I never feel like I'm loveable.

Mother's are suppose to make their daughters feel beautiful and empowered.

I spent my entire childhood on a diet.
To this day, I still hear her voice in my head.
Have a salad honey.
It will be easier if you're skinny.
Change into something else.

I wonder, if this will follow me forever.
If I will always be haunted, by my mother's shame.

I promise though,
If I ever have a daughter,
I will empower her to love herself no matter what.
I will teach her that love isn't based on your waist size and neither is acceptance you can find love at 400 pounds the same way you can at 130 pounds.
I will teach her she is beautiful.
I will make sure that when she grows up, she's not afraid to touch pasta, or have a sweet.
I will teach her, no matter what, SHE IS LOVEABLE. And so are you.. And so am I... I think...

Some people know what it’s like
To feel a knot in the back of your throat
To feel that knot untying, loosening a seam
To know that there’s a hole  
To try and fill that hole
To know that there’s a hole that cannot be filled
To try and fill that hole.

Some people know what it’s like
To feel that brief blissful void
To know the release into nothingness
To think without weight
Only to become heavier.

Some people know what it’s like,
To want to be like them
To wait to be like them
To try to be like them, effortlessly
To fail to be like them, painstakingly.

And some People know, they are not alone

Oh
to be the girl in those adverts ,
Light,
skinny,
beautiful
A tragic line
to every gentle rib
I fetishise her fragile fingers
A monstrous beast reflected in the mirror, the worst possibility.

Tis poetic, there she stares
Says her lines; remaining fair,
Into my face, My acting is heavy handed and awkward
She’s a consumable reality,
She’s easy on the eyes
The fragile female,
salvageable.

We are a tragedy of ages, her Juliet, I Faustus
They silently boo while I slop onto the stage
A lazy slob,The **** of society, just don’t eat you fat ****. men like curvy girls We don’t want to see you, You’re so brave!  You’re the problem, it’s not hard hide your mass from view, unkempt, repulsive, vile. hide yourself it offends my sharp eyes.
I open my drooling mouth to speak, but there are chins smothering my mouth
My eyes clouded by greasy cellulite
I don’t want to exist like this.

So just stop eating.


I’d give an arm and a leg,
my pale teeth,
my parasitic possibility
my child

It only took a few days for you to seep into my mind and reside in the darkest parts.
But once I knew you were there, I didn't try to rid of you.
No, you gave yourself to me and I accepted you with open arms and an empty stomach.

Like a parasite you ****** the life out of me.
You wore me down to where I napped three times a day.
My stomach never satisfied; either empty or stuffed.
My period stopped for five months.
Stomach pains worse than any pain I’ve experienced before.
Living in a constant fear that my stomach acid would burn a hole through my esophagus.

But you didn’t let any of these ailments stop us.
You taught me to embrace them, they needed to happen.
You convinced me to enjoy the pain I inflicted to myself.
Just collateral damage to the ultimate goal of thinness.
You pushed me so far deep inside my head, I was separated from the shell of my body.
I couldn't recognize myself, I deserved to be nobody.
But I didn’t know that then, you told me that was exactly who I was supposed to be, the real me.

And I believed you.

The love hate relationship with food,
is so strong. It consumes your life. It is on your mind every second of the day. It becomes your only reason for it all. The only source of contentment, but also the source of your fear, your self hatred, you want it so bad but you abstain because you're scared of the guilt and the consequences you will subject yourself too. To earn your right to feel happy. You impulsively exercise to extremes. And your peers will applaud your dying body.  You have to keep the routine because without it  you are terrified of the free time without focus, because the cycle of hunger and hate will set in. Society has convinced you you're not worthy of love unless you are a *******. If my peers knew the state of my mind they'd ridicule me for not being manly. There are moments, everyday, when you spectate a battle of reason and anxiety in your head.
And all the while you're on a timer. Counting down as your heart rate slows, organs strain and cease, friends drift away from your inability to pretend you're ok, and you are left alone and family beg for your sanity, because you inconvenience them. Everyday, ending it all seems the best solution, but you know better than most, how hard you are to ****. You're also a coward. If there is no intervention you will die, slowly, but assuredly you will. You have the final say.

the hallway bathroom and i
have recently become close again
she is a friend to me
in all of the worst ways

when my body grows too big,
the bathroom is always there
waiting for me to come back
to need her again

when no one wants to see my tears
she cradles me in her arms
lets me sit on her marble tiles
lean close to her porcelain seat

i whisper secrets to her
let her see all of my tears
and she comforts me
lets me empty everything into her

she tells me what i am doing
is alright, it won’t hurt anyone
my secrets are safe with her
but i don’t feel safe with her

no one else will hear me
no one uses the hallway bathroom
maybe that is why
she always holds me so tightly

she whispers secrets back to me
every once and a while
she’ll tell me that she’s missed me
that it’s been too long

or she’ll say that i am finally back
where I belong
with her, but still alone
and sometimes she’ll even give helpful tips

“it’s easier to ***** if you plug your nose”
“if you try one more time, you’ll feel better,
despite the burn in your throat”
“just once more, remember to breath this time”

we have always had a strained relationship
the hallway bathroom and i
but i always seem to crawl back to her
and she is always ready for me

It’s easy, natural:
Chew, swallow
Keep it down,
Eat

You learned
When you were small
Just keep it down,
Eat

Food is not
Your enemy
Just keep in down,
Eat

Body weight
Won’t matter when you’re dead,
Just keep it down
Eat

You say these things
Berating me, like I don’t know
Don’t understand
Don’t want to be able to just
Eat.