Skinny girls are stylish.
Skinny girls go to Prom.
Skinny girls have all the boys.
While the fat girls have nothing at all.

Skinny girls can be quirky.
Skinny girls can be fun.
Skinny girls are always accepted.
While the fat girls are awkward or wrong.

Skinny girls are normal.
Skinny girls count.
Skinny girls are pretty.

Skinny girls can have dreams.
Skinny girls can go to the gym.
Skinny girls have everything,
because skinny girls are thin.


If I told you who I really was, would you still accept me?

If I told you how I actually felt, would you get angry?
If I missed giving one smile, would you frown?

If I told you everything I'm going through right now, would you sincerely listen?
Or would you forget by tomorrow?

If I said that I wanted to end my own life, would you even care?
Probably not.

Luckily for you, I'm an expert at applying a false face.

Today was another really bad day.  I have no idea what happened...again.

I feel incredibly sick, both physically and mentally.

Sick of myself.
Sick of my weaknesses.
Sick of being controlled.

A friend of mine posted a brave status on Facebook that she took from her 8th grade journal:

"You are officially independent when you stop relying on the acceptance, and attention from others. You are officially independent when realize that no matter how many people compliment you, or insult you, you are still you..."

I can't believe how profound a statement this is. I realize now, that I am not an independent individual. For too long I thrived off of compliments and opinions. When they were all gone, so was I. I wish that I could have realized these simple truths sooner. I am still me whether I'm a size 4 or a borderline size 12. If people only liked me for my outward appearance, then they were never willing to like me for my soul.

I still rely on others more than I should, but I'm fairly certain I was born proud. I was born with insecurities about my appearance, but now, when I'm at my weakest, they're finally eating me up.

I want to be independent.
I want to be proud.
Not of my body, but for who I've become and where I've been.