My name is Jackie and I understand what you people are going through.
I want to live a life thinking positive.
Ever morning I wake up complaining about everything about myself.
“I’m so fat, I’m really ugly. I want to lose weight. I would kill to be thin. Why can’t I be like the other girls who could look good in a bikini? Why can’t I have long legs that don’t touch eachother like the other girls in magazines and on the runway? Why why why?”
Growing up, I was always insecure. From as far back as I can remember, I was overweight and my friends were twigs. They were pretty and blonde and wore short shorts and bikinis. I was stubby and fat and wore basketball shorts with baggy shirts and my hair was always a ratsnest. I was always the awkward friend, in my eyes at least, who just didn’t fit in and belong with the rest. But I never really did anything abut my self image until middle school.
Entering seventh grade, I was the new kid in town. Didn’t know a single soul in my new school. I acted and looked very antisocial, with my glasses and knotty long hair to hide my many more flaws. I wore un-flattering jeans and big shirts from Wal-Mart. I didn’t even know what Coach or even Hollister was in middle school. I took a look at my surroundings and noticed- everyone here had friends. I would always be alone (forever alone!). I didn’t make friends until maybe the second or third month of the school year. I was quiet. But I wanted friends..
I remember eating a lot because I found comfort out of it. It was like food was my best friend, when in reality it was my worst enemy the way I treated it. Until I made my first ‘best’ friend.
Her name was Amanda and it was in gym class where we first started talking. We would run together. She was about the same size as me, we could share clothes. We were a size 10/11 in jeans. I hate that number. But anyway, after a year of hanging out endlessly and having so much fun, we started picking at eachother’s bodies. She would tell me, “Your love handles are buldging out of the top of your jeans.”
“Your theighs are expanding as we speak.”
“Your arms jiggle like a teacher’s arms.”
And there were more, and more, and more comments that she threw at me that I eventually learned the behavior and did the same back. I would say, “Every 3666 calories is a pound. You’re eating like a cow.”
“Your stomach has its own zipcode, you should exercise.”
And more and more we would say things to eachother.
Eventually, while browsing diets online, I came across a ‘pro-ana’ webiste. In it, it was filled with skinny-like-a-skeleton girls, their ribs were sticking out so far. On the webiste was ‘tips and tricks’ on how to ‘lose weight fast’. Me being only in 8th grade now and very naive, I took these tips to heart.
I started out by exercising endlessly until I was numb while cutting down on meals greatly.
Then I would exercise and skip meals.
Then I would exercise, skip those meals and throw up what I have eaten that day, which wasn’t much at all. The maximum I remember my limit being was 450 calories. Any more and I would punish myself by scarring my arms, a slice for every day I would cheat on my so-called ‘diet’.
This diet went on not for long, maybe 2-4 weeks, but those days I did lose weight. I went from a hefty 160 in the begining of the year to a bit lower 145-150ish. I was so happy about this.
But that made me very, very, very sick. No body should lose weight so fast, no matter what your starting weight was. I found out shortly after that I was severly anemic and needed to take about 450% iron pills twice a day. I never took them of course, because I feared they would pack on the pounds again.
My mom found out about my problem and freaked out on me. She saw the scars on my arms and she found me throwing up one night. I’m not sure of everything she did, but I ended up going into therapy.
Up until mid-9th grade I went to therapy. And somehow, all that time, I eventually gained some weight back, but that therapist gave me a good image about myself. I left her place happy and feeling great about myself. So, then I figures, eating wasn’t bad. I’m a great looking person, so exercising isn’t that necesarry.
From mid-end of 9th grade, my freshman year, I gained back all the weight now. I’m the size that I was in the beginning of my awkward middle school. I’m a sophomore now. I don’t talk to Amanda anymore, of course. She wasn’t a good friend at all. Only brought me down further and further.. And My negative thoughts are back, my ‘diet’ thoughts are back, but I’m working on this time losing the weight healthy. I’m working on looking at myself and thinking again, “I’m beautiful.” I may have to lie to myself at first, but eventually, it will get planted in my head.
We only have one body, so why be so depressed about it? No matter what shape, size, length, whatever your body is, it is yours. It is who you are and if people don’t like it, well too bad. You all are very very very beautiful.
Don’t let anyone say you ain’t beautiful. They can all get f***ed, just stay true to you.”
If you are still reading this, thank you. It took me a lot to get this off my chest.
Any questions, please contact my Tumblr account.