Empty

You’ve probably heard the saying, “there’s a first time for everything” before. I remember the first time I was truly insecure about my body. I was 11 years old and a fresh new sixth grader. Now when I say “ truly” insecure, I mean the first time I wished I had a new body. The first time I looked into the mirror and hated what I saw. Sure there may have been times when I wanted to make changes or times when I didn’t like certain parts of myself, but true insecurity hit me like a bus when I got to middle school.

I was a little on the chubby side, and all of my friends were petite and small. It was something I didn’t really notice, but once I did, I couldn’t focus on anything else. I started picking apart how I looked every morning and before I went to bed. Wishing my waist was smaller, my legs thinner, and my stomach flatter. Pinching and pulling unwanted fat and rolls and imagining myself a new, thin person. Scrolling through Instagram and TikTok, I would follow fitness influencers and my for you page was full of diets and healthy recipes. But that's all it came to. I never took any action to look better, only I was obsessed with trying.

Then, in seventh grade, I started binging. I would eat uncontrollably and couldn’t stop, feeling disgusting and guilty afterward. I would eat without tasting, eat until I couldn’t anymore and it was horrible. I gained even more weight, which only made me feel even worse, which only made me binge more.

That was then. That was where it all started. But this is the story of now, and how it got even worse.