Seeing Myself Through My Own Eyes

Fatty, fatty two by four, can’t fit through the kitchen door. Their names and faces are lost in history, but their words remain my constant truth. School yard chant buried deep under my skin, wrapped around my heart, that creeps through my brain, popping up like a boogey monster whenever Read more

Why Can’t I Look Like Stevie Nicks?

Still, I believed I needed to look good to be happy. I worked out like crazy and tried to hide my bad teeth, which had been further damaged in a bicycle accident. Even after I found a great boyfriend who convinced me to get help for my eating disorder—probably saving my life in the process—I hated looking in mirrors.

I Am Eating

Empty and white; slowly stripping down to collarbones and shiny shoes that look nice with her thinning silver gown. Grown to adore those cold feet and sleek ridges that adorn the backs of a hundred pale faces on paper. Scarred and hushed; lips quivering like the soul in her teeth, Read more