Stigma

I don’t remember the date, exactly. But I do remember what grade I was in and what we were making for dinner. 11th grade, 90 pounds and I was frying taco shells for a late night dinner. Late dinners were not uncommon in our house. Mid prep, she turned to me and grabbed my tummy skin and said “Getting a little pudgy there?”
In no way do I blame her; maybe it was a joke. But it did send me into a downward spiral. I was already flat chested and not asked out by any guy, ever. So now I was flat chested and chubby? How did this happen? I was already being bullied at school for wearing second hand clothes. High school is hard for anyone. It truly can be. But that day became the day that I wanted to live up to some expectation. I needed to be prettier, I needed to not wear used clothes. I needed not to eat. Now I am close to 40 and still I battle some of those issues. I tell my husband “Look! I ate three meals today!” It’s embarrassing to admit, but in some way I still need the validation, just like I needed the validation when everyone said how skinny I looked. I thrived on those compliments when I was younger. Being skinny meant I was pretty. But it was never enough. I wasn’t happy though I could smile a lot. I wouldn’t eat but if anyone noticed, I would eat a small amount and promptly find the nearest bathroom. The comments “I wish I was as small as you” meant more to me than my actual health. I played soccer, worked after school and did all the normal things teenagers do. Aside from the fact I didn’t eat. I remember almost passing out on the soccer field and just blaming being tired. I wasn’t just tired; I was malnourished and needed just to be able to confide. But no one in my life was like that so I didn’t.
Anorexia and bulimia followed me into my early 20’s. In fact sometimes it still does. Sometimes, it’s like an addiction. I hear the words so often about how small I am and there are days I like hearing it and there are days I wonder if people know my battle. But of course they wouldn’t. I don’t talk openly about it because weight is always a sensitive subject. ALWAYS.
My point of this? Don’t let body image take over your health. Don’t be afraid to admit your struggles. You’ll never know who needs to hear the words or who can say the words and offer encouragement of their own. Exposing ones heart is hard; but maybe, just maybe, it’ll be words we all need to hear.