when you are ten the bones of your skin will start to
become more prominent and your family will put you on a
pedestal for being skinny and the boys in your class will
call you anorexic that word they learned in science
means unhealthy it means ugly it means disgrace it means
not good enough and you will learn to carve those words
into your skeleton with the help of a knife called insecurity and
it means that you do not walk like the other girls in school it
means that your hips aren't big enough it means that your
legs aren't long enough it means that the only thing
you will love about yourself is that you have the same smile
as your mother and the hope that you will grow up to
be as beautiful as her is the only thing that keeps you alive and
all the men on your block hover over her existence now
that your father is gone and you will now begin to measure
beauty on how many boys you think like you how many girls
envy you and how many people wish they were you. when
your little brother starts to follow you around and mimic your
movements you will push him away and watch as his
big doe eyes fill with tears. you don't say what you want to,
that you are not good enough for him to follow, that you
don't want him to be branded as a loser because of
your association that the screaming itch you have to tear yourself
apart is your second biggest fear and that your first is hurting
him. you don't say anything, at ten the words in your mouth
are choked back into a place deep in your throat where no one
can hear them. your mother yells at you to speak, idiota the
hint of her Spanish accent a reminder of the person she used
to be. now she wears higher heels and shorter dresses and doesn't
roll her tongue or give way that she knows anything about
being Hispanic. her culture has now become a flaw and herself
loathing will project on to you so much that it will be
staggering. you still won't say a word and she will leave, her
head hung in disgust while yours lies swimming in the ocean where
Nemo lives, trying desperately to forget who you are because
even at ten you know, you will not amount to anything

(h.l.)