Confessions of an almost nineteen year old
Ana says-
That being the skinniest girl in the room is power.
Ana says-
That my worth is measured by the number of calories I consume, and not by the good I can create.
Ana says-
If I want someone to truly love me, they must love her first.
Ana says-
That hip bones and thighs spread too far apart are
s e x y
And my curves are not.
Ana says-
That starving myself is the only way to make that deep dark hole in the center of my chest disappear and ‘
Ana says-
She is my escape.
But what Ana doesn’t say is that my legs were made for
running, jumping, dancing
And they cannot do that when they are pencil thin and weak from lack of food.
Ana doesn’t tell me
that she’s never had a man tell her that her bones were sexy, or that he loved the way she could never eat in front of him, because starvation is not what turns someone on.
Ana doesn’t say-
That I will never see myself as the skinniest girl in the room, no matter how true it is, because Ana doesn’t want me to stop.
Ana doesn’t tell me-
That the reason I’m always shivering and my hair is falling out in clumps is because
I am dying.
Ana doesn’t want me to know that
Life without her
Is a life worth living.
Because a BMI
Is not an indicator of my self worth
And the size of my jeans
Does not tell me anything about the size of my heart.
I am stronger than this illness.
And Ana does not need to tell me that.
-h.m.d
