The Price of Beauty

2004-08-31, 1:43 p.m.

I have been eating nothing but grape nuts for the past 5 days. They resemble in texture (and probably in taste as well, although I wouldn't know) hardened hamster pellets. I choke them down with soy milk and a glass of ice water every evening after school, after which I spend about an hour locked in my bedroom trying to convince myself that it is okay to ocassionaly keep food down, that I'm not going to gain weight from a half a cup of fucking grape nuts and soy milk.

I've gained quite a bit of weight over the summer, due in part to my extended vacations in ---, all those days of trying to be the "cool" girlfriend, one who could put away huge milkshakes and giant slices of meat lover's pizza everyday alongside her metabolically gifted better half without whining about the dangers of not being a perfect size 6 anymore.

Part of me wants to vehemently fight this fascist beauty culture, to just say "fuck it!" and be happy with what I've been given. But somehow, although smaller, the part of me that wishes to to submit is infinitely stronger. There's always that little voice in the back of my head that keeps me from ever fully sating my appetite, from ever feeling truly secure and confident with my physical self. Yes, I am attractive, but I'm not as attractive as I could be, and with me there is never any middle ground, never a grey area. The need to be physically near perfect has overtaken my entire life, begun to dominate my every thought and action.

I feel somehow that people expect perfection from me, that I'm held to a standard from which I'm constantly falling short. It seems that people are always looking at me and shaking their heads, the inevitable "...But she has such a pretty face..." so obvious in their eyes.

So... I eat cereal that tastes like hamster shit, agonize over the tiniest weight fluctuations, refuse to leave the house unless I've been sufficiently starved for the day, and run my hands obsessively over my body each night, tentatively judging the ratio of bone to padding. *Sigh* What price beauty, indeed.



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