I sit at the dinner table
My plate heaped with chicken and rice
I eat it all in the blink of an eye
And reach for another serving
But my parents look surprised
They let out little laughs
Don’t eat anymore they warn
My dad extends a hand to pat my stomach
I shrink away
I am 10.
I laugh and play around with my brother
My cousin is babysitting us
She watches us with bright, curious eyes
Suddenly a grin grows on her face
There’s a weighing scale she says
In the bathroom; no one’s home
I shake my head but she drags me along
I reluctantly step on and look down at the number
Tears well up and she grins evilly
I beg her not to tell, but she cackles and runs off
I am 11.
My mom takes me shopping
New clothes; I can scarcely wait
There! A dress with flowers
I can hardly contain my excitement
I squirm anxiously the entire way home
I rush up the stairs to try it on
The zipper sticks, but I tug it hard
It fits, but I can barely breathe
My mom laughs
She tells me to lose weight
I try to smile but instead tears fall
I am 12.
I take one look in the mirror and there she is
She stares straight at me
Her hair too coarse
Her puffy eyes too uneven
Her shoulders too broad
Her legs too thick
Her stomach too wide
A single tear runs down her trembling face
I look away and so does she
But I glance down and it’s still there
That ugly, imperfect body
The prison I’ve grown to hate
I am 13.
I hate my body she says
And I can’t understand why
She’s skinny, she’s pretty
She’s more than I’ll ever be
I would die to be her
I’m starving myself she says
And I decide to do the same
But the urge to eat overrides
I beat myself up over every bite
I weigh myself every night
I glare at that number
At the lump I call a body in the mirror
I crawl into bed and cry
I am 14.
They’re everywhere around me
The supermodels I call classmates
The cover girls I call friends
Their bodies half my size
My confidence half of theirs
How can I live up to them?
How can I be like them?
How can I be them?
These questions haunt me
I get up in the middle of the night
To study myself in the mirror
I look at my body with scrutiny
Behind watering eyes I smile
Just a little
I am 15.
I dance around my room
Music bubbling in my head
Tossing clothes here and there
Throwing on outfits and posing in the mirror
Good, but not good enough
They tell me to love myself
To love the number, my body, my face
But how can I?
My entire life I’ve been taught to hate them
To hate my very existence
How can I undo years of pain?
Of self-loathing? Of agony?
I pause to look at myself once again
I look and I start to believe it
I am enough
I am 16.