SKINNY By Emma Stevens
The word skinny should not have held so much power over me. Yet, I strived everyday, because that is all I ever wanted to be, I forced my throat close and my hands to stop grabbing for food. I was so far in denial that I couldn’t even see a way out Because I didn’t care about the consequences. I had to be skinny. I needed to be skinny. “Being that skinny doesn’t seem healthy.” “Why don’t you eat something?” “You look like a bag of bones.” “You’re too skinny.” Skinny. I was too skinny. My eyes were sunken in, My ribs jutted out of me like a corpse, I looked like a walking cadaver, which fit how I felt. It’s a stupid word, because how is being skinny worth it? I live in a first world country but ate like I belonged in a third. My innocence had been stolen by a word that means nothing. Modern day beauty is defined by curves but fitting into a zero. A flat stomach is an urban legend, thigh gaps are wasted space. I rather be strong and happy that what I see isn’t a society zero. Someone who isn’t exactly, Skinny.
