Personal Narrative-Skipping Meals

As I stand in front of the mirror, I start to cry in anger. Purging. Dieting. Working Out. Skipping Meals. Nothing seemed to get rid of my fat. This thick layer of unwanted fat. I just wanted to get my scissors and cut it off. It was disturbing to see and I wasn’t the only one who saw it. The way people looked at me was demeaning. Their eyes gleamed mean with faces of disgust.
My problem (being fat) started who knows when, but I did start to realize how fat I was in middle school. I had a lot of friends and we all got along well, until we had gym. That one semester virtually killed me. It was seventh grade. We would all change in the locker room. On the first day, the students made fun of all the guys on how they were chubby. I was made fun of too but I didn’t genuinely care, it was just plain fun. That’s when the fat jokes started. Day after day I was ridiculed and belittled a lot. I didn’t feel good in my own skin; I didn’t feel at peace anymore.

I remember never wanting to call any attention to myself, because “my friends” would usually be negative.

I started lots of diets, working out, and skipping meals. I would drink only non-fat liquids all day (mostly water). I would get very hungry, but I didn’t eat. That whole semester was all about getting skinny. I would weigh myself every day and look in the mirror continuously. My behavior changed a lot. I would binge eat in anger and then vomit it all later. I was very irascible. No one wanted to be my friend for being fat and cruel. I was worried and struggled a lot with my weight loss. I saw an immense academic downfall in my studies. That’s when I noticed this wasn’t good for

me.
All the jokes and sarcastic remarks were doing me harm. I was scared and depressed about not fitting in. I soon realized that I had to make a change about my outlook on life. It didn’t have to be about staying skinny, but about being someone in the awful society we live in. We live in a generation in which we all care about our looks. People have the teenage dream about perfection, which would be looking like Barbie or Ken. It’s all about the looks, the one thing none of us should care about.
I started to ignore them instead of listening to their suggestions of getting skinny. I slowly started to get over the dysfunctional relationship between my body and food. I started eating healthy instead of just not eating. This time I ate to be happy, not to be a jerk about my own weight. I started to eradicate all my problems. Little by little it all went away, like a soft white feather in the gusty summer breeze.
In this day and age, none of us should care about what the world around us thinks of us. We are human beings who are not destined to be perfect, or be liked, or be judged by others. You have to be at peace with yourself to give peace elsewhere. Simple words we should all live by, “If you are happy, you can give happiness. If you don't love yourself and if you are unhappy with yourself, you can't give anything else but that.”