You would never know the truth passing me on the street. If you noticed me, you would assume my brisk confident stride conveyed the strength of an especially together young woman. Should you stumble into me at a club or bar, you would see a bumpin' long-haired maven who's nobody's fool. Never one to be the slobbering stupid-girl-drunk, I would smile a connected and coherent smirk. But underneath all that rythm, there is a deep, lonely secret. I would trade in my biggish biceps for the lithe, little limbs, I would sacrafice my athletic aductors for scrawny stilts. I want to be timidly tiny and totally in need of tender care. I feel so ignorantly ungrateful, but I don't want to look like I could kick your butt. Even if I could. The dancing carrot is fantastic.
Jokes aside, I have lived with eating disorders my entire life. I knew that my mother threw up after every dinner when I was nine, and I was the only one who would say anything about it. She had a heart attack when she was thirty five and she still threw up for years afterward. I thank my lucky stars that I don't have an eating disorder any more (there was a short stint of starving) but my thoughts about food and "the body" are certainly screwed-up.
Though I promised myself that I would keep this light, I ended up a little more truthful than I intended. Honestly, I am hurt. Hurt by the disrespect that my mother shows her own brilliant self, hurt by the disrespect she shows to me (I am never thin enough for her), and the disrespect I have, in turn, shown myself. There is not a day that goes by, that I don't wish that I was thin.
I can run seven miles, and I think I would trade that all in to be a skinny girl.
All of my posts won't be like this. I will go back to being my spunky, struting, self. Really I will.
Happy V-DAY to all you lovely women!!!!
