Age 18

Everyday. Everyday I love food. Everyday I hate food…or rather, how the food makes me feel after I eat. I am tormented and wish I could free myself from this pain. My anguish is unrelenting. When I look in the mirror, what do I see? Someone with little self-control. Someone unworthy of love. Someone who wants to cry out for help, but is too afraid…

Age 24

This is not my body. This can't be it, this soft, round, jiggly blob. No, my real body is hidden under all these layers of fat, and my job is to remove the fat so I can be who I really am. So I can be a happy, confident, successful person who is loved and desired and appreciated and respected.

When I look in the mirror, that is what I think: No, please, this can't be it! I have struggled with bulimia for 8 years. My weight is normal and healthy, but it is too much. There's too much excess, too much softness and flab. I hate my eating disorder; I hate how I have allowed it to take so much from me - my health, my teeth, my time and money, my friends - but I feel that if I were to recover now, I would have failed. I never got skinny. I never achieved the goal. Recovery would mean giving up, and I can't let that happen. So I have to keep going, keep throwing up, keep dieting, keep doing all the things that make me sick and depressed, until I am thin enough that I am allowed to stop.

I know that I will never be thin enough. But I have to try.

Age 36

When I look in my mirror, I have learned to categorize my body parts.

GOOD
Eyes (Mutable, From Green To Blue)
Pert Nose
Slim, Strong Shoulders
Musical Hands
Wonderful Smile
Delicate Wrists

BAD
Double Chin
Apron Stomach
Fat Thighs
Chunky Calves
Wobbly Upper Arms
Fat Ankles
Big Butt (aka "Fat Ass")

I just want it to stop.

I am infertile because I am fat. I have starved, hit, bruised, cursed and mutilated my soul's cage for so long that I don't know how to stop it. I punish the flesh with the words in my mind on a near-constant basis. I don't know how to stop it.

I just want it to stop.

My husband of 10 years married me when I was fat. He loves me, but I still don't understand why that is the case. I know it hurts him so much when I humiliate my body verbally; when the abuse becomes physical he throws himself full force into the fray, stopping my scratching and marking, braving the snarling beast I become.

I JUST WANT IT TO STOP.

My parents, family and friends don't know the effect their words and actions have on me. They don't understand that who I have become is a result of their words of "concern." They can't figure out that when they comment on my food choices or my lifestyle choices, the pressure is unbelievable.

I JUST WANT IT TO STOP!

Age 24

I had always thought of myself as the fat friend, the fat daughter, just plain old fat for the longest time. The other day, I found an old picture of myself, maybe 7 or 8 years old. I looked at it and the first words out of my mouth were "I was thin?!" Me? Thin? This was an alien concept, something that couldn't be. Surely, I was thinner at that time (roughly 16 yrs old) than I am now, but since then I've had a child and kept a few pounds. I'm also not as active as I was. Thanks to my pregnancy though, my breasts are larger and I've got an amazingly curvy waist. I wouldn’t trade my son for size 2 jeans any day.

I've come to accept my body for what it is and how it looks, mommy pouch, uneven boobs and all. Our bodies grow and change over the course of our lives. They're beautiful and strong and capable of so much and deserve our love and reverence. It's not always easy and some days it's downright hard when everything in the media is screaming at you to change, to lose weight, telling you that you as you are right now is not good enough. Good enough for who? It's even harder when the people telling you to change are your family and friends, people who love you and only want what’s best for you.

Love yourself. You deserve it. Everyone else will fall in line.

Age 24

I'm 5 foot 9 inches tall. I have no idea how much I weigh because I'm too afraid to get on a scale. My measurements are 32-25-32. When I walk down the street, I regularly have strangers (men and women) stop me to tell me that I'm beautiful. I've modeled. I wear a size 0.
Every day, I look in the mirror and see something so hideous I can hardly believe that I am human. I look down at my body and want to rip all of the excess away because I do not deserve to take up this much space. I look at myself and I can't find anything to like.

I'm terrified that I will lose my boyfriend over this because he likes my "curves" and I can't stand to hear him say that because all I hear is "fatdisgustingexcessivewasteofspacefatworthlesshorriblerepulsivefatfatfatfatfatfatfat."

I have felt like this since I was six years old. I have starved for weeks at a time. I've purged glasses of water because I can't bear having anything inside me. I've worked out for hours on no food or sleep. I've never sought treatment because my weight has never qualified for a diagnosis of anorexia and I'm convinced that no one would take me seriously without it.

I want to believe that I will be able to stop feeling like this one day, that I will look in the mirror and see what other people see. I honestly do. But, I don't remember ever feeling any other way and that makes it nearly impossible to hope anymore.

Age 19

I was never really told I was beautiful or even attractive until I said I was ugly. To tell the truth, once a person says they’re ugly, it’s too late. That statement means that they’ve had enough time to think about it and have finally given in. Sometimes that’s how I feel. Sometimes I just kick my ass. I drag myself through the dirt worst than anyone can. I try to recover. The best I can do is give myself a nice little pat on the back. I’ve come along way from where I used to be with my body, but I get the feeling that the struggle will never truly be over. Even if I was to lose the additional weight, well now my skin is not perfect, my hair, my nose, my breast, my butt, my legs...something is always wrong. I’m always one step away from perfection.

I hope to have children one day. I promise that I will do my best to encourage high self worth and esteem. I feel that if you don’t get it when you are young, if your self worth was destroyed when you were growing up, you will spend the rest of your life in the Battle on the Body. It’s a never-ending war. Sometimes I have peace talks with my self-esteem. I say, “Hey, I’m not ugly and my looks don’t determine who I am.” And my self-esteem agrees and for awhile all is quiet on the home front.

Then it comes back.

It’s as easy as a quick glimpse in the mirror. Sometimes it’s as rough as a trip to the mall. In these moments the War is back on, being waged on all fronts. Sometimes others try to negotiate peace talks. They tell you stuff like, “you’re not fat,” “you aren’t ugly,” but it’s futile.

The only person who can even get anywhere near winning the War on Self is self.

I wonder if anyone has ever won.

Age 20

I was a tiny, yet muscular and strong tennis player until I developed an eating disorder my junior year. I dropped below 90 pounds. By the time I went to college, I had mostly recovered. Now I run and workout a lot, but it never seems enough. I'm almost as strong as when I played tennis again, but now I worry that my arms and legs are to muscular, I don't look "tiny." I shouldn't feel that way. I should be proud of my hard earned muscles, of my strength. I'm not a size 0 but I can run mile after mile without getting tired and do push ups. Those are the things I should be proud of. But a little voice in my head believes men don't like it when you have muscles. It's absurd that I should base the value of my body on what men will like. I am trying to learn that the only person that matters in loving my body is me - but I, like many other women, struggle every day with this.

Age 19

I wish I could just LET IT GO.

The numbers, the calories, the weight, the all consuming time I spend thinking about it. After a 6 month stint in hospital two years ago I consider myself a recovering anorexic. I'm now able to maintain a decent enough weight to have a life of some-sort. But still, it’s always there. The numbers, the food, the calories, the binging, the purging, the starving. Granted not so much, but any amount is too much. I want it gone properly. I want to be able to let go completely. To just NOT CARE. But I can't. I'm too vain. Too self obsessed. Too proud.

And much, much too scared.

Without all this I've got no barrier. No option to dip out of real life.

Age 20

I have hated my body from the time I realized that was a possibility. I remember always being overweight, although it didn't show on my body. I was always 5 lbs away from a 'normal' BMI, 5 lbs away from being able to love myself, from being able to feel beautiful. Those five pounds led to crash diets, an abusive relationship, an eating disorder, stealing diet pills from stores when no one was looking because I was too ashamed to buy them and let someone see my desperation. There is a movement to celebrate 'curvy' women, telling us that that hourglass figure is the ideal, but at 5'6", 152 lbs, I measure in at 38-27-38 and clothes aren't made for me. I love shopping, but with such a small waist, things hang on me, making me look larger than ever. This is the first time I have been within a normal weight range, and I feel huge. I have always had guys like me, or love my body, and I hear compliments daily, but it doesn't mean anything to me, and no one understands that. I can't appreciate what they see until I see something worthwhile, until I can accept that maybe, being a size 8 is okay. I need to see for myself that being a size 8 is okay even if my entire family is smaller, and it doesn't need to translate to being undeserving of happiness, or love or respect.

Age 17

I have all the characteristics of a model. I am tall, I have excellent bone structure, almond shaped eyes, long legs and great hair. There is only one problem. I am fat. My body mass index puts me at 33.7. I've always been one of those people who "would be so pretty if you only lost weight." So everyday when I look in the mirror, I don't see any of my positive attributes because I'm so focused on how much I weigh. I'm constantly thinking about how everything in my life would be so perfect if only I were thin.