I liked being thinner. I liked the size I was. I hate myself when I am chubbier. Truly. There is a voice inside me that spontaneously says, “I hate you.”
I don’t remember a moment of my life when I didn’t think about what I was putting in my mouth. I don’t remember a moment when I didn’t think about my size or my weight. I don’t remember the freedom of eating without an agenda or a goal.
I yearn to live without thinking about how much I weigh. I yearn to live without being consumed by what I eat.