It all started in the seventh grade; I weighed about 110 pounds that was the first time my mother told me I needed to start losing weight.
I did not understand how big of an impact this one event would have on the rest of my life. At that point I was skinny and healthy, but to please my mom I started running and I felt good. Eventually, I did lose weight which pleased my mom for the time being however it only got worse from there. Instead of losing weight I gained it I went from 110 to 125 from seventh grade to eighth grade and it was this year that started the trail of events that would lead to my demise.
Gaining weight was a common problem for me which caused my mother to yell at me and look down at me even more. In doing this I would not eat in front of her, but when I was alone I would binge on anything I could find, cheese, cereal, grapes, or anything.
In ninth grade my family had made the decision to move to Florida, which I was excited about at the time. Then one day came along after we had moved out of my house and were living with my aunt and my mom told me that if I did not lose 10 pounds before we moved I could not dance. Dance had been my life it was my passion and the only thing that made me feel good about myself, I could not lose it.
Later, I was crying all by myself because I had no idea how to lose all of that weight… that was the first time I made myself throw up. It felt so good, it made me feel skinny again. From that day on my mom started checking my weight every single morning and I started losing weight, only because I was making myself sick.
However, it made me feel happy and pretty and most of all it pleased my mom to see me lose weight. I told no one, no one knew about my secret obsession of going to the bathroom after every meal and vomiting up every bit. No one knew the mental pain I was in, not even myself. Once we moved to Florida things got worse. I started gaining weight again, which made me throw up more.
Then one day over the summer my mom caught me in the act. I had a little talk with my parents about how I had not been doing it that long when in reality I had been doing it for over 2 months. It blew over and I did stop making myself sick, until my mom started telling me I looked bloated again. So, of course, I started making myself sick again. I was so depressed and lonely, I did not have a single person to talk to, no one knew about my life and no one believed me when I told them how cruel my mother treated me.
Then, come February and my parents asked me if I was still making myself sick and at first, I lied and told them I was not, but eventually caved in and told them the truth. They did not understand why a girl with such a “great life” could do this and be so unhappy. I wish I could have told them how much my mother’s words hurt me and how much I hated myself.
They signed me up with a group called Blue Horizons that was supposed to help with my eating disorder, mentally it did, physically it did not. They made me eat a lot of food in order to get my metabolism back up to speed, which only caused my mother to make even more comments about the weight I was gaining.
Then, a new problem was brought up my social skills, so not only was my mom telling me I was fat but also unsocial. Every aspect of my life she hit with negative words. I continued going to Blue Horizons for one month, my parents believed I was better and pulled me from the program.
I did not make myself sick for a month or two after that. But then my mom came back at me with even crueler and self-hating comments about my weight. She had even told me I look pregnant, that was the day I stood up for myself after she called me pregnant in the middle of eating, I screamed NO and ran to my room and locked the door, she cracked my door trying to kick it in. I had never thought so hard about killing myself.
Things escalated from there, I tried to avoid looking in the mirror and did not talk to my mom because all she ever talked about was how ugly or fat I looked. My confidence level went so down I hated myself for not being able to please my mother, all I wanted to hear from her was “I am so proud of you.” I continued making myself sick without anyone knowing.
Then, I went to a summer camp provided through my Christian youth group where they did something called “Real Talk,” where young adults talked about their troubles they had as teenagers. One of the women there talked about her life, and it was identical to mine from her relationship with her mother to the way she thought of herself. I had the chance to talk with her about her experiences and she changed the way I looked at things she taught me that “God made me for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” This was the most amazing thing I had ever heard because God made me the way I am, so I need to love myself. I felt semi-confident and knew I could get better because I had God on my side.
But when I got home and told my mom the quote this woman shared with me, she took it as God gave me this body, so I need to take care of it, meaning that I needed to lose weight still. Everything got worse from there, my mom and I fight almost every day.
Now I weigh about 150 pounds and I hate myself more and more each day. I wish that my mother could just understand how harmful her words are to me. I have not loved myself for a long time now. I haven’t been happy for a long time now, and I can never see it getting better. I do not throw up as much anymore, however, I do have slip ups which just make me hate myself more.
I can never see a day where I will look in the mirror and am happy with what I see. My life just seems to be getting worse every time it could get better. All I want is my mom’s approval which is something I don’t think I will ever receive. I need to be happy for myself. I am in 12th grade now and am almost out of my house for good, hopefully I will be able to gain confidence in my college years and see a new light that I deserve.
Thank you for reading.