I’m in line at the movie store, waiting to check-out. A boy I really like is teasing me. It’s ok. We’re picking out a date night movie.
Kindergarten rule #101: Boys who like you, pick on you.
Well, this one must really like me, because he squeezes the soft baby fat underneath my chin. And then, to make sure I understand how much he digs me, pokes my waist and asks me how much I weigh.
In that moment, I become too pudgy for comfort.
I’m sixteen and a size 6.
I realize I want to be smaller.
. . .
I’m sitting in the library with a girlfriend, studying for an upcoming test. My friend has a wispy, ballerina look to her.
“You’re so healthy,” I say, commenting on the fruit she always eats.
She looks me dead in the eyes. “I used to just throw up, but the last time I did, my whole face became covered in blood vessels.”
I try to imagine…