I am 11. I am standing in front of the bathroom mirror, pinching the fat on my thighs. I am crying, because I can pull away with whole handfuls of fat - at least in my mind. I am hysterical. I am so, so big. I take up too much space, gravity pulls me down so far, I galumph when I move. I pinch more fat. My mother knocks on the bathroom door. Dinner. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and emerge from the bathroom, smiling.
I am 15. I am standing in front of the mirror in the girls' locker room. Next to me is my best friend. We are comparing our breasts - hers are much smaller. We then compare our post-adolescent stomachs. Hers is much smaller. I am so, so fat. No, she says, you aren't fat. You're athletic. No one thinks you're fat, you're just not skinny. She turns away. I bite my lip, blink away the tears, choke back a scream. I emerge from the locker room, smiling.
15 is the year I learn to battle my weight. I learn to measure my self-worth in pounds and inches. Today, I will eat only celery and carrots. Tomorrow, I will have black coffee and a cracker. The day after, nothing. Look at yourself, fat girl. You are not worth food. But I get hungry. I so badly want food that I eat without thinking, stuff my mouth with anything I can find, visit fast food restaurants and eat it all. Then I learn to get rid of it, through the cunning use of my left hand and a box of chocolate-flavored laxatives.
I am 18. I am standing in front of my boyfriend, naked. He is staring at me. I don't know what he is seeing. Appreciation? Awe? Disgust? He turns away. He hands me his tee shirt. So you don't get cold, he says. I turn away. Do you think I'm fat? I ask the carpet. No. I think you are too skinny. I can see your veins beneath your skin. He doesn't know what's important. He doesn't know what this means to me. He thinks girls should be big and curvy, and I think I should disappear.
I am 20. I am bent over the toilet bowl, staring at my rippling reflection in the water. I am shoving two fingers down my throat and getting rid of everything I ate, or didn't eat. I am 21. I am drunk, because I drink every night to forget about the fat that is eating away at me. I am wobbling on my heels, jamming my hand down my throat, beginning to cry. I bring up vodka, saliva, bile, blood. I collapse on the tile floor, thanking God that it's all out of me now, nothing can touch me when I'm this empty. I am not worth anything but emptiness.
I am still 20...and I wish things were different...that this never happened...that I loved my flaws...that my flaws didn't exist...that I didn't exist...no, that I were happy...believe in happiness…I so badly believe in happiness.
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The Question
Want To Share?
The Body Image Project is an online project searching for women and girls of all ages to share their individual experiences and feelings about their own body image perceptions. The goal of the project is to have women and girls take the brave step of sharing their story, break the hold these perceptions have and ultimately reveal to those who share and those who read the thoughts of others – you are not alone. It is a rare opportunity to share without fear of judgment - share in a healthy manner. We ask that individuals include their age so the reader witnesses the wide-range of ages and the wide-range of issues women and girls are facing (often silently).
Share your story. Keep it short and simple - the impact will be huge.
To share your story, simply email your words to bodyprojectsubmission@gmail.com.
Share your story. Keep it short and simple - the impact will be huge.
To share your story, simply email your words to bodyprojectsubmission@gmail.com.
Background
Body image dissatisfaction is a growing epidemic in our society. Women, teenagers – and now young girls – have become obsessed with obtaining the “perfect body” which can lead to an unimaginable sense of self-loathing. Society targets women with constant attacks on their bodies creating a false belief that our value – our worth – is based on appearance alone. We have become enslaved to the beauty myth and to our unwavering attempt to fit in, skewing the mental picture we have of ourselves.
The Body Image Project simply asks “when you look in the mirror, what do you see?” Do you embrace your physical appearance, or yearn for change? Do you accept your physical differences or take extreme measures in an attempt to change your body? How far are you willing to go to feel better about yourself? Are you happy?
Be honest. Be open. Express yourself without fear of judgment.
Through your words and shared thoughts, The Body Image Project will take an unflinching look at how women and girls perceive their bodies, allow individuals an opportunity to reveal their perceptions of their own self-image and explain how far some are willing to go to fit in.
The Body Image Project simply asks “when you look in the mirror, what do you see?” Do you embrace your physical appearance, or yearn for change? Do you accept your physical differences or take extreme measures in an attempt to change your body? How far are you willing to go to feel better about yourself? Are you happy?
Be honest. Be open. Express yourself without fear of judgment.
Through your words and shared thoughts, The Body Image Project will take an unflinching look at how women and girls perceive their bodies, allow individuals an opportunity to reveal their perceptions of their own self-image and explain how far some are willing to go to fit in.
Privacy Policy
The Body Image Project (http://www.thebodyimageproject.blogspot.com/) does not collect names and/or addresses. All posts to this site are anonymous and include age only. If you share your story via email, your email address will not be shared or posted. All text/image posts are considered public, equivalent to "Letters To the Editor," and will be considered publishable.