Once upon a time, I existed in this made-up “fairytale” that I had created for myself — a glamorized tale of a beast that had absolute control over me. And once upon a time, my eating disorder provided me with this “fantasy” of bulging bones, rules, calories, scales, and lettuce. My so-called fantasy world consisted of legs that didn’t touch, grapes that tasted like candy, and coffee as a means of keeping me awake.
This world is brimming with fragile skeletons of once lively, talented girls. Bodies are dressed in oversized clothing, faces colored in with make-up and smiles plastered on faces.
Once upon a time, the ominous voice dictated my every move. The beast shouted when I didn’t eat the least at the table. And cheered when pants no longer fit around my waist.
Once upon a time, my birthday requests, 11:11 wishes and lucky pennies consisted of one wish only — my mythical longing to fit into this so-called fairytale.
Over time, I did become one of those bodies dressed in oversized clothing. But not the kind I had envisioned in my self-contrived “fairytale.”
Rather, my body was fragmented. I could no longer recognize the girl who inhabited it. She was too weak to sing happy birthday to her best friend on her 20th birthday, too tired to watch her favorite movie with her boyfriend and too hungry to talk to her mom on the phone.
However, as my clothing became more and more oversized, I realized that my “fairytale” no longer served me. It was bleak, lonely and agonizing.
This fantasy world of mine was no longer filled with gold medals for every pound shed or calories burned. It was no longer filled with applauding every time my stomach rumbled. And it was no longer okay with those weak, cold feet and hands walking around aimlessly. Rather, my alleged “fairytale” had come to an end — and given way to darkness.
While I could no longer recognize the “fairytale” I had spent so long existing in, I knew that the darkness in front of me was temporary. It would not last forever.
In fact, in the distance, if I squinted hard enough, I could see the sun — it was beginning to rise. This made-up fairytale of mine was over.
And just like all fairytales, this one taught me a lesson. It taught me that I’m a warrior. And warriors deserve to live. Warriors have lives to live. And just like that, I discovered my chance to truly live “happily ever after…”
(Last Updated: July 29, 2022)
