Once a therapist scoffed when you said you think you might maybe you dunno…have an eating disorder? You said it as you usually did, in that nervous-smile shy and quiet way if you talk about hard things. And he, the therapist, the PhD, said, but look at you, look at that tiny waist!
Read MoreThis is how—the sponsored makeup reels and tummy teas and popular pills and needles and lasers and Kim K and Before-and-Afters, these bodies that don’t that won’t that can’t look like hers. So take her eyes too and break them…
Read MoreYou’ve been so good—so good— that when your friend meets you at the airport, she says, you look like a bird. You smile. No, you say, no, I’ve still got a long way to go. You’re grinning all the way through the flight at the thought. This new plan you’re on takes commitment, but you’re sure you can stay on track so you’ve packed two medium hard boiled eggs—no salt—your weighed baggie of dry oats, your peeled apple, your gallon jug of water, emptied and ready…
Read MoreWhen I hear someone talk about “the silver linings of cancer,” I am so immediately turned off by the framing that it’s made me wonder if I’m just disinterested…
Read MoreI was born with blood in the rice
I walked up the rice terraces one thousand times
I fed one million people with my thighs
It took me a week and a lifetime and an infinity to pick up the phone.
I told my therapist about the offer to join their family.
That they’d be willing to move to make it work.
“I think if they’re considering moving to include you,” he said, “you’re already part of the family.”
The message was clear.
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