for most of high school i had an eating disorder. though you’d never expect it from me, i was obviously overweight.
i never did reach my goal. in fact, if anything i gained weight because of it.
before my ed, i was always content with my body. i was chubby, sure, but nothing that couldn’t be hidden by some high-wasted pants and an oversized t-shirt.
i was never bullied in high school. at least not by my peers. people were generally nice. my father, on the other hand, was a different story.
yes he was physically abusive. yes he dangled me by the hair at the top of the stairway when i was five. yes he left my 9th birthday to party and come home drunk and knock a dresser on top of me. yes he threw ceramic dishware at me just a few days ago for leaving my bike unlocked. and yes i am fucking traumatized.
but all those things, all those horrible things he did and continues to do, none of them can equate to the words he stabs into me.
i started to skip lunch and breakfast freshman year. i only wanted to lose a little weight, and id still eat dinner every night anyway. my dad had been beginning to point out my “tummy pocket”.
we bought a scale. we took turns weighing ourselves for some sick and twisted reason. my older sister was 5′1 and 125 lbs. i was 5′4 and 137 lbs. i was younger. my dad pointed this out.
sophomore year, i discovered ed tumblr. over the summer, i had forgotten about my losing weight goal and just tried to enjoy the vacation. by that point i was 145 lbs.
that disgusted me. i found thinspo, ana&mia, the whole shebang. i would starve myself for 4 days straight, and then binge. instead of going to lunch or study hall, i’d walk around the school, up and down stairs to burn more calories. chewing gum helped too. i became vegan to have an excuse not to eat with everyone else.
i was on and off with recovery. id say i was going to recover, but not because i thought there was something genuinely wrong with me, but because i was just hungry.
i was down to 115 by the end of december. and no one noticed, no one cared. so i gave up. i enjoyed life again. it was winter, and i couldnt flaunt my body anyway.
cut to junior year. i’m 155 lbs. as it turns out, starving yourself enables a response in your body that spares calories and decreases your metabolism. so although i was eating a regular, healthy amount, i gained a ton of weight.
my father had begun pointing this out. “you’re too fucking fat, meg.” “your ass is enormous.” “you’ve got to be heavier than i am!” “you gotta stop eating so much.” “you don’t stand a chance.”
so i became bulimic. anorexia had never really worked out for me, as i always ended up bingeing the calories i refused myself. my capillaries would burst around my eyes from the strain, a symptom known as petechiae, and i would wear sunglasses and completely make myself up to hide the little red dots.
that didnt work much. i often found myself gazing at my reflection in the toilet bowl. still fat, still ugly. it’s hard to look at yourself through chunks of undigested carrots.
senior year i gave up completely. i weigh 163 lbs and i would be lying if i said i loved myself. i don’t. i hate it. every time i try to think positively, every time i think im in full recovery, my father will say something about how i look and i will run to the bathroom to plunge a toothbrush down my throat.
my point is, you don’t know what people are going through. if making fun of fat people gets you off, then obviously you’re a dick. but also? parents do not realize how much they influence their children. i have never held anything close to love for my father, except for maybe hate, and yet at the first sign of disapproval, i chuck myself into a long spiral of self-loathing.
tldr: be who you want to be. appearance means nothing. fuck parents
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