Behind every body is a story.
That sometimes is hard to tell.

If you look at my body
Do you see what I see
When I look in the mirror

And could you tell
That I was the girl in the locker room
Who couldn’t change in front of others
Could you tell that
I used to call myself “a cow”
and hated “my thunder thighs”

Did you know that at one point
I thought I was going to go bald
Because my hair kept on falling out
And
falling out
And
falling
out

For 8 months strait
Because I didn’t eat
Any fat
Or protein
Or anything
At all

I bet you didn’t know that
The only reason
Why I stopped taking diet pills
Was because my whole body
Decided to shut down
(And I was poohing blood for 4 months)

Nobody knew (until now)
That I was the disgusting one
Constantly throwing up
In the stairwell of my dorm
Because I didn’t want to be girl
Who made retching sounds in the bathroom

No one knew why
I kept on saying that
I was going to die
When I was 48
Because if they knew
What I was doing to my body
They would see why

There was no way
I would make it beyond that
If I kept on doing what I did
But I kept on doing it anyways
I’m not afraid to die
I kept on telling myself
At least I’ll die skinny.

The story of my body is the story of struggle
Trying to control my body (not to eat)
And punishing my body (for eating)
For doing what it’s supposed to do
Stay alive

My body holds the story
Of suffering
Of trauma
Of shame

I tell you this story
Because I want to tell you
How it all begun
And how it all ended

I'm ready to go deeper.