Monday, June 16, 2014

Age 18

All my other Asian friends are skinny. Size 0, 25 inch waists, beautiful slim figures. And then there’s me. The short, “chubby" Asian who eats healthy but unfortunately doesn’t look very “slim" for her religiously attained healthy lifestyle. Okay, I know that I’m not fat. But only factually. 5’2”, 120 lbs. Rock solid quads from endless hours of cardio and strength training. No bulgy stomach…just a thick looking waist. Some people even say I’m attractive. That I have a princess face. I don’t see it.

My skinniest was at the peak of my diet back in 2012. I got down to 110 lbs in three short months in the summer. I was the “happiest” I had ever been with myself and my sense of self-esteem was actually present. Since then, after reverting to my pre-diet eating plans that didn’t consist of consuming half a bagel for breakfast, the other half for lunch and half a bowl of veggies and/or meat for dinner, I (of course) gained all that weight back. Even today, I look back to that summer diet for “fitspiration” and motivation.

To this day, I can remember every single thing that goes into my mouth on a daily basis. I workout at least 2 hours a day when I can. Every thought that passes through my mind daily is what I should eat for the next meal and when my next workout session should be. I am afraid of junk foods like chips, Starbucks beverages, cookies, ice cream, you name it. When I DO eat those foods on occasion, I feel like killing myself on the inside. I always have to compare what I’m eating with what other people are eating – is my meal healthier than theirs? Did I pick a lower calorie option? Am I eating less than they are?

EDNOS. It may not always show as plainly as anorexia nervosa, but hating my body and myself for eating food, the very thing that keeps me alive, is no doubt my own disturbed perception. I haven’t told anyone else because I’m afraid that people will think I want attention. The reaction I’ve gotten when I hinted my problem to my family is that I’m just thinking too much.

They’re right. I’m thinking way too much. About food. It’s all I think about. Eating it, not eating it, burning it off, fueling with it, crying from it, regretting it, hating it. And hating myself.