I remember: beauty is in the eye of the beholder

TRIGGER WARNING: Discusses mental health and eating disorders. Do not read if this seriously triggers you.

Yesterday, my friend told me “yeah, I hate her with her petite feet and ability to fit into everything”.

What I remember:

  1. Being poked in the stomach and being asked why I was so bloated, at a hotel buffet dinner.
  2. Being told that I was too curvy and my roots were terrible one month after having my son.
  3. Being told “oh, so you’ll never be able to wear a bikini” and “ah, you’re still fat” three days after being discharged from the hospital after having my son.

My image of myself is distorted.

I remember:

  1. My mother circling her fingers around my wrist and feeling my ribs asking herself what happened to my baby.
  2. I remember smoking menthol cigarettes to soothe the burning in my throat after throwing up my meagre dinner.
  3. I remember being 39kg.

I remember being stuffed into a school locker – straight out of a teen drama – and being small enough to be comfortable in there but also screaming due to claustrophobia and being manhandled by boys twice my size. I remember hating that I was soft in all the wrong places and had no boobs, no butt and I felt like I was barely a person (just 50% eyeliner).

I laughed the comment off.

This was written at 7:50am, 25th Feb 2018. For more writing, click the tag or check out my pieces on Anything Lah!

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