I was seventeen.

I was seventeen. He was my world. I would’ve done anything for him. I worshipped the ground he walked on. On Thanksgiving, he bought me an engagement ring and told me not to tell anyone yet. It was beautiful. He took me out to the middle of nowhere to look at the stars. His smile lit up the room and his green eyes, I was lost in them from the moment I saw him in the restaurant I worked in. Seventeen year old me thought we’d be together forever.

I remember it precisely and perfectly the moment pieces of my soul fell away before his feet. He said, “I wonder what it would be like to be with a skinny girl”. At that moment I felt that I had died. I weighed 135 lbs. I was not really skinny, but was I fat? I started to hate my body from that moment. Hated my self. I spent hours looking in the mirror analyzing everything. My eyes weren’t green enough. My lips not full enough. My hips and ass not big enough. Stomach not flat enough. I became fixated on being what he would want back.

I thought we would get back together eventually, I thought he’d see that I was the one. That I would love him like no other. Then I saw it on Facebook. I was eighteen. He was getting married. To someone else. My happily ever after was over. He was marrying a woman who was…skinny. Very skinny.

I have hated myself ever since, and I am not sure how to begin loving myself still.


Categories: Addiction, Anxiety, bipolar disorder, Depression, Grief, Love, Mania, Marriage, Mental Health, OCD, PTSD, Self Esteem, Writing

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