After looking through old yearbooks yesterday, I wondered what had happened to the ones I was actually in. I found my senior yearbook stuffed in the corner of one of our overflowing bookshelves and paged through it. Volleyball, Drama Club, Academic Team (proud captain and Nerd Extraordinaire), the newspaper - you know, it wasn't all terrible. I'm not saying I want to go back, but there were friendships I had there that I'll always treasure. And hey, how many people can say they wore a fur suit in front of the entire student body?
Once I got over the initial nostalgia, though, I came a slightly uncomfortable realization.
I was not fat. Not. Fat.
My parents were right. My English teacher was right, my math teacher was right, the administrative assistant was right. My ex was right. There was not a damn thing wrong with the way I looked. Why had I hated every picture of me? I have a great smile! Four years of orthodontia was money well spent.
I can't go back and keep myself from developing anorexia. It happened, it's still something I struggle with. But damnit, we have got to stop making weight and our bodies a moral issue. Not everybody goes clinical, I know. But enough shit happens in high school without that additional stressor.