There's a very, very thin young woman a few tables down from me in the coffeeshop. Over the half-hour she's been here, I've caught myself looking over at her, wondering. Is she? Isn't she? Can you really be that thin, naturally ... or is there something more?
I do that. It's morbid. It's also incorrect.
Because we all know, all of us, that eating disorders are about so much more than being thin. And you can have anorexia no matter what size you are. The not-as-thin girl who just walked in could have it. The Macbook boy in an armchair could have it. Older, younger, American, foreign, boy, girl - you just don't know by looking.
Thanks to my father, I know what happens when I assume things - I make an "ass" out of "u" and "me." So no more of that. She might be skinny, she might be anorexic; but then again anyone might be. I mean, you wouldn't know from looking at me that I don't come by my clavicles honestly.