I was 13 years old when I first started my anorexic ways of life. I had been competitively figure skating for about 7 years and always in good shape. I never saw myself as how I truly was though. There was this one girl on the team who was very thin, skin and bones, and she was older than me. I wanted to look like her because I thought being that thin was beautiful.
But not just wanting to look like this role model figure skater caused my eating disorder. I truly believed my face was completely ugly and that the only way to compensate was by having a runway model-like body.
I also thrived on attention, people always used to compliment me when younger on my figure and how skinny I was. I desperately wanted more.
That summer I restricted myself to a low calorie diet, counting every single food and recording it on my iPod touch app. When high school rolled around, I was so thin that I looked like a walking skeleton. Only I did not notice it - too me I was not thin enough. I would stare at my thighs, dissatisfied, urging to see my ribs.
I regulated my low-calorie diet for quite a while, until my mom started becoming concerned with my gloomy figure, not getting my menstural period, and my fragile bones. I remembered always being terribly cold, and sitting in front of my heater for hours, warming up. My face was a chalky white, erased of colour, and I always felt tierd.
My mom took me to the doctor and they weighed and measured me. The doctor told me that I had to start eating more in order for me to get back to a healthy weight, and if I did not oblige, I was to be sent to an institution.
My mom watched over me like a hawk making sure I would eat meals, and hired a nutritionist to design a meal plan for me to gradually gain weight. Unable to escape my parents baleful glare and forcing me to eat, I tried throwing up the food - good thing my body didn’t understand that reflex.
I gained weight, and started feeling happier than ever. Also that was the year I quit figure skating. I started feeling more alive, the pressure to count calories was gone, and it felt as if a big weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Now that I am 16, I got my period, I grew two inches (5'7) and now at a healthy weight. I look back at my behaviour and find myself so self-destructive. I like my body now, there are a few flaws, but its better to just live with them.