Twenty Two

Control

That’s what she wanted

Or maybe it was love

Or maybe it was belonging

Or maybe it was hope

Or maybe those were all the same thing

All she wanted to know was how to get it

It seemed pretty clear cut

The pretty girls were in control

They were loved

They belonged

That was her hope

She could do that, right?

With enough time and money

All of it in-fact

But it would be worth it

She would be worth it

Eventually

Eat this, don’t eat that

Wear this, don’t wear that

Run like this, don’t lift like that

And so she ran

And she shrank

And she starved

And she shrank

And she was determined

Oh, was she determined!

To unearth her worthiness in the form of a six-pack

And then hip bones

And then ribs

And then the thigh gap

“hi, um, I don’t think this is right?”

her body whispered

as she dug into her own skin

for the answers to set her mind at ease

She set off to start a new life

A new year

A new “me”

But that’s the thing

It was still her

No matter how thin

It was a secret she tucked away

in her sports bra and ran another mile

People respond to thinness

Loved ones responded with concern and confusion

Strangers responded with a sort of respect she hadn’t received before

As though she must be successful simply because her makeup was done

Her waist was small

Her arms were defined

They noticed her

They listened to her

Finally, she thought, I am someone worth paying attention to

But beauty is a fickle thing

Certainly not something stable enough to hold one’s worthiness

Bodies change, driven by an overwhelming amount of hormones

Any control over them is always short-lived

It will always rebel when it is forced to be too small

And hers did

It tried to tell her

But she didn’t listen

Then it made her listen

Her skin dulled

Her eyes sank

Her golden hair left without warning

Her nervous system shut down

She laid in bed for months

when she finally got up she felt irrelevant

The people who listened before, they weren’t listening now

Were they ever?

She didn’t know anymore

But whatever sort of “respect” she had

Was gone

along with all the Lululemon that no longer fit

She gave up

For a while

Not the life-taking kind of giving-up

The put-one-foot-in-front-of-the-other giving up

The exists-but-don’t-live kind of giving up

Then one day she saw something miraculous

A woman

She wasn’t all that pretty

She wasn’t all that young

She wasn’t all that successful by most worldly measures

She certainly wasn’t thin

But she laughed loudly, freely, whole-heartedly

It was a sort of glorious rebellion

She spoke directly, truthfully, commanding attention

When she spoke, people really listened

Not only the people who wanted something from her

They listened to the point of laughter and tears

The girl watched this, bewildered

She went home

She ate dinner

and she cried

She cried because she had hope

Of someday having what she saw in that woman

But she was scared

It required more than calorie counting

More than marathons, waxing salons, and tanning beds

It required her to live truthfully

To let go of everything she thought she knew

Start over

A new year

A new “me”

She looked at her puffy, tear streaked face in the mirror

And said a silent prayer to whatever god could hear

“thank God, we don’t have to run anymore”