At school her best friend called her fat. She took up a measuring tape and that was that.
“Bubble butt,” her father said. If only he’d called her slim instead.
She constantly checked her BMI – the scale goes up, WHY WHY WHY.
Nothing meant more than being thin; cut out this, that’s where we’ll begin.
As the pounds dropped more and more, she seemed so fat and felt a bore.
Her personality traits all seemed lost with every meal she sadly tossed.
She studied every girl online – they’re so thin but they seem fine.
She thought she’d rather be thin and sad than always feel just fat and bad.
Body pains were always there and from the stress she lost her hair.
Every day she shed a tear and wished she could just disappear.
With every bite she thought she’d die – starving gave her such a high.
Then one day she found small hope that maybe she could learn to cope.
Eating might be hard to bear but in other ways she learnt to care.
Keeping track and writing lines, she got to know the warning signs.
Meditation, self-care, love – darker feelings she could shove.
She looked at bodies big and small and learnt that she could love them all.
She really was so kind and smart – her eating disorder didn’t set her apart.
Her mental health she struggled with, but the worst began to lift.
Nature, crafts, distractions and all made her feel less fragile and small.
She stepped back along the way, but those feelings weren’t there to stay.
She sought out support and care as there are always people there.
Slowly as weight came back on, her feelings she was fat were gone.