I never knew that there were ways to express myself out loud.
Always bottling up emotions, ready to explode.
Soon, I began to write.
I released emotions that had been suppressed for too long.
The pain that I face is distracting and sometimes unbearable.
A bag of chips, an ice cream on a hot day.....
These everyday treats are forbidden, evil and lead down a treacherous path.
Looking into the mirror, I am disgusted.
The girl staring back at me isn't like the gorgeous models on TV.
She isn't 100 pounds and almost 6 feet tall.
But I'm told that those women are beautiful.
Saying and modeling slogans swim in my head.
Fat is ugly. Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.
I wish I could be someone else, someone beautiful, someone elegant.
Thigh gaps and collar bones are the sign of beauty.
Who would be fat when skinny is so easy?
Well..... it's not.
Exercising for hours and dieting, getting nowhere, can drive someone insane.
The pressure society is putting on young women confuses us.
One minute we see a McDonald's commercial, the next a Diet pill commercial.
We constantly hear about childhood obesity.
When will the starving young people get the help they need?
When will their weak and empty voices be heard?
We need help and we need to be heard.
Teenagers are supposed to be young wild and free.
How can we be when we're told that we're not good enough?
If we're not thin then we have diet pills, exercise, starvation, purging.....
There's no excuse not to be bone-thin.... right?
NO! That isn't true beauty and yet...
We continue starving ourselves.
Our voices have been taken by Ana...
She tells us we are fat and shouldn't eat.
Her sinister hands cover our eyes to our natural beauty.
If Ana wants to control me, I will have to fight back.
So I write not for me, but for every girl who struggles.
I write for the girls who can not defeat this poisonous condition.
I write for the girls who cry when they look in the mirror.
I write for the girls who are hungry, not only for physical nourishment but spiritual too.
I write for the girls who don't feel beautiful, even if their loved ones say they are.
But most of all, I write for the girls who live each day, scared of life and scared of food.
Tears, unnecessarily shed
If it weren't for the media, perhaps young ladies would be happier.
Until they change the way they portray "perfect" women,
I will write.