Originally posted on Thought Catalog:
“See?” I said indignantly, leaning over and pointing to my stomach. “I have rolls of fat!”
“Yeah, because you’re leaning over,” my friend said, rolling her eyes. “Everyone does when they do that.”
We were in seventh grade. I weighed 75 pounds.
“Step on the scale,” the doctor said. I had an eye infection. I didn’t understand why I needed to weigh myself, but I obliged. I never looked at the number. It was too scary.
“Do you remember what you weighed?” she asked me a little while later.
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I don’t think I even looked.”
I was 20 years old. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten a period.
There were stories of girls with eating disorders in magazines. I was a religious reader of Seventeen, CosmoGIRL!, and Teen Vogue. While I read a magazine, I could escape into…
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