“He bought me a gym membership for my birthday (yes, you can get angry here) and I went four (four!) times a week, lifting weights and doing 100 crunches and flexing in the mirror. It worked: I hated my body.”
This was really hard for me to write.
2003. I’m standing in front of the mirror. There’s a sliver of light between my thighs, and I think, “Oh, thank god.” I briefly contemplate going into the bathroom, because I have just eaten carbs, and meat, and cheese and I’m so full I look pregnant, and even though my friend and I laughingly show one another our “food babies,” my heart is screaming, you should be ashamed.
For many of us, we develop these isolating and deep-seated feelings of self-hatred and shame during our formative years. Between the ages of 12-25, I was hit particularly hard. Many of us were. The internet contributed in a big way (think Ana blogs, for example) but so did other people.
People? I’m not talking about the media or advertisers here. I’m talking about the people who love us. They usually don’t know just how…
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Categories: Sister Sirens