body positivity 

it doesn’t always happen for me

but when it does

i have to grab it with all my life

so when i don’t have it

i have encouraging memories to aspire for.


food is my every thought.

you laugh and I suppose it’s because

you think it’s funny. in a,

“everyone likes pizza and donuts.” kind of way.

like everything else i’ve been forcefed my whole life; 

“women don’t cuss.”

“don’t let a man think you’re smart.”

“no man will love you if you weigh that much.”

“don’t talk about your mental/eating disorder.”

i’m not supposed to talk about it. 

well, here we are and food is all I think about.

it’s not all that funny in the end. in a,

how many calories is in that?

if i eat this now than i can’t eat that later.

i’m so hungry, drink it off.

i’m starving, sleep away the pain.

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat today. kind of way. 

when i shower, 

my imperfections occupy my mind.

i’ll only have half my normal breakfast. 

getting ready for the day.

clothes are too tight.

 i want to scream. 

i want to die. 

only an apple for lunch. 

can’t wear this. 

something else.

something else.

in public you see a three hundred pound ogre. 

my clothes shrink two more sizes and now it’s hard to breath. 

i’ve already eaten too much.

failure, no slef-control. you’ll never be successful. 


in a weak state of hunger i eat dinner.

i hate you.

see how uncomfortable and antsy you are? 

no eating for two full days. 

i am always thinking about food.

i have an eating disorder.

i haven’t won yet but i try. 

Body Image…

…or how I don’t have the right one.

Body image. Shit will this topic every take one for the team and just disappear already. I am not happy in my skin. Whether or not that is due to what society had pushed on me all my life I don’t like it. When I lived in my skin hangs loose from weight loss, my breasts are not the perky American style, I have scars littering it, skin literally revolts against anything put on it or anything that I consume, and I still have a ways to go in my struggle with weight. 

When that is where I am in my own time imagine the struggle I have when listening to others talk about body images that they deem fit for humans. I get equally upset when someone calls a man too fat or too skinny. If that man is put down for not having a six pack.

Then there is the struggle of what your partner looks at. That image doesn’t match you at all and you think twice about whether or not you are actually fulfilling them in any way at all.

I think society is so keen on torturing people into disorders and they are completely aware of what they are doing. They don’t care if you are falling to pieces as long as you fit into their size 0 clothes and you don’t have any sagging skin either. You must be perfectly fit to associate with them.

I am doing this rant because at this point I think my eating disorder has done it’s irreversible damage. I’m too scared to even tell my doctors that for two years I had anorexia nervosa and that even now I struggle with and uncategorized eating disorder. That I can’t consume certain things because I’m scared of weight gain and that the hunger pains I get are often so intense that I can’t move.

Why is it okay for a gay man, of all people, tell me that I’m not skinny enough causing me to crash into my disorder with full force. Why is it okay for a classmate to discuss people as fat or not fat? Why is it okay for stores to sell clothing that don’t fit any average persons body type and if you do find your size it’s actually three sizes smaller? Is that meant to encourage me to lose weight? More then anything it encourages me to break down into tears live in self loathing.

Models can’t be tattooed. Why? Women can’t have stretch marks. Why? Men can’t be skinny they have to be built. Why?

Better question: Why do we allow it?