This obsession –
always thinking, planning, wishing
to be thin, beautiful.

This obsession is the way I hate myself:
the way I look, the way I am,
who I am.

When I attack my body,
I attack my soul,
my Inner Self.

My soul fills me like water fills a sponge,
Reaching everywhere,
Even into the hated hips and thighs.

I ate to quench, not the hunger,
the fear,
fear of myself, my emotions, my soul.

I didn’t know –
I didn’t realize how I rejected myself
In fear of rejection.

Protecting myself from pain,
I inflicted
Much greater damage.

Why didn’t someone stop me?
Why did they applaud while I devoured,
numbing my passion, vision, soul?

What were they afraid of?
Would I shame them
With wanton behavior?

While my soul was asleep,
they sent me to church, to school,
reinforcing my conviction.

They told me I was ugly and
encouraged me to hide behind my books,
escaping into oblivion
until they called me to
supper.

By Julie T., San Jose, CA