Normalcy

This weekend I ate ... normally. In that because I was starving after the wedding, I had seconds of the green beans (it helped that they were delicious) and two rolls. In that I, Lisa, recovering anorexic, ate wedding cake. I worked at Kroger - I know quite well the nutritional facts on buttercreme frosting. And I ate it anyway. At Jim's house, I devoured pomegranate salsa, chunky guacamole, pretzels, cheese and crackers. I didn't have the pizza they ordered, but that was mainly because I would have exploded. I even had a couple of toasted marshmallows and two Woodchuck Ciders. I wasn't Jim's Oddly Skinny Girlfriend Who Doesn't Eat - I was just Jim's Girlfriend, Lisa, who has a healthy appetite and laughs appropriately.

Writing down everything I ate makes me anxious, as it always does. It was a lot. But it's not out of the ordinary for a (very-soon-to-be) 22-year-old college student to eat more on the weekends than she does during the week. It's not out of the ordinary for her to exercise and eat healthfully most of the time and splurge once in a while. Concave stomachs and hollow cheeks, I've learned, are NOT normal.

I'm normal, or at least approaching it. And you know what? People still like me. I don't have to prove that I'm somehow superhuman and don't need to listen to and feed my body. I can have a belly and people will. Still. Like me.

But the question remains - will I like myself?