Eat a sandwich.
How many times have I heard those three words? Felt those three knives?
Are you anorexic?
No, are you?
It’s amazing how people feel that they have the right to hate on ‘skinny bitches’ as if we don’t have feelings. Well, emotions are produced and excreted from fat and muscles, right?
I stare into the mirror, noticing the slight bulge of my ribs, and barely existent breasts. I turn and almost disappear. High cheekbones and wide eyes watch me.
After a minute of staring, my eyes fall on the empty pizza box from last night and I laugh. Me? Anorexic? Food is my friend, my lover, my soulmate.
Eat a sandwich.
Sure! Do you have one? Can I get extra mustard? No meat please, I’m a vegetarian. I can walk to your house and pick it up if you like. I don’t mind a bit of exercise. It’s a beautiful day anyway. Even though the sun off the snow glares into my eyes, I just glare back.
This skinny bitch is busy, so say your part and leave ‘cause lunch is soon and the combinations are endless. Can you just leave your negative comments on my voicemail? I have places to be and frankly I’d rather just hit delete than listen to your voice anyway. You know what, why not just scribble it in your diary and leave me out of it? Save us both some time because I have a sandwich to eat before I go running.
For an article on how body shaming and body policing affects overweight women click here.