February, 2000
February 20, 2000 Dear Diary, Well, Mom and Dad found out everything… or at least part of everything. They found a page from my other journal—the one I keep as a log. It has my recorded weights, exercise hours, calories, fat grams, food in, food out, that kind of thing. It must have ripped out of the notebook. I tried to tell them it was for a school project but they didn’t believe me. Thank God, it was just one page. I’d be grounded for life if they saw the whole thing. In a way, I don’t get what the big deal is all about. I mean—whatever. My friends are the same way and you can totally find other people doing this stuff on TV and online. Nevertheless, I guess if I’m being honest, when they talk about it, I can tell the difference. I mean, I think about it all the time, but that just shows I’m dedicated. It’s not some passing little hobby I play around with. So now my parents are away for the weekend for some “quiet time” to “talk things over.” I suppose they didn’t want my little sisters to overhear them or catch on to what’s going on. Kim and Dana are twins. They’re ten years old, seven years younger than me. I’ve been helping to take care of them for the past five or six years. But this weekend, our parents insisted that boring old Aunt Edna stay with us. Actually, it’s not that I mind Aunt Edna, but she’s only here because Mom and Dad informed me that I’m, “no longer trustworthy.” Which is ridiculous, honestly, like counting calories or exercising a little bit is going to interfere with babysitting two ten-year-olds who will probably just sit around watching movies all night. When I said as much, Mom got quiet, looked me right in the eye, and whispered, “Jessie, do you want to tell us about what happened the last time we went out of town, when Dana had the flu?” I couldn’t say anything, really. I don’t know how she found out but she was right. The last time my parents went out of town was for their anniversary honeymoon trip three months ago.
They got married in New Mexico and they travel there every year for a weekend away together. I’ve been in charge for the past few years, primarily because I have nothing better to do. I’ve always been really good in school and, with college applications coming up, I’ve put even more work into it. My head has felt sort of fuzzy lately, so I’ve really been pushing myself with long hours of studying. I have a 4.0 GPA now. I’m probably not good enough to become valedictorian but, if I do everything perfectly and keep pushing, I could break into the top five or ten in our class. Between my work-study job, babysitting the twins, studying and exercising, I don’t have much of a life. I only have two friends—Christine and Tiffany. In actuality, they’re best friends and I’m just along for the ride. We study together in a sort of competitive way, and occasionally, we exercise together, though I prefer doing it alone. That’s the extent of our friendship. There are no girly slumber parties where we share all of our secrets; no driving past the houses of the guys we like; no big drinking parties down by the railroad tracks where everyone else hangs out. Which is why my journey with Mia and Ana (as the Internet message boards call them) is so vitally important right now. I can’t go through the next seventeen years the way I went through the first seventeen—fat, ugly, desperate, and alone with no boyfriend, no friends and no life. But, these pathetic qualities so loathed by teenagers are the things that parents just love. So, up until now, they have made me a responsible and trustworthy adolescent in my parents’ eyes. Which is why, when my parents go away for their annual trip, they leave me alone to watch the twins. The problem was that this year, taking care of the twins was a lot more stressful than I had anticipated. I can usually figure out a way to get out of eating… or at least eating in front of other people, which I hate above all else. (Because who wants people staring at them, judging what they’re eating?) To start off each day, I pretend to wake up late but secretly do crunches in my room. I skip breakfast or I grab a very low calorie option like a grapefruit or something, and I run out the door. At school, I skip lunch, and many times, Mom and Dad aren’t home by dinner time, so I can skip that too. When they are home for dinner, I pick at my food, or I say that I have to study, take my plate to my room then throw it away. On the other days, when my willpower fails, I totally pig out. I once ordered two pizzas, a bucket of wings, breadsticks and soda at our local pizza place, drove alone to the park and ate it all in like twenty minutes. Then, I went and got an ice cream sundae with three toppings and extra whipped cream. It wasn’t too hard to get rid of all that. It made me pretty sick just having all that in my stomach. When I can’t puke everything up like I did that day, I work out like crazy. I’ve been doing this ever since I started middle school when I was eleven or twelve when, after being picked on at school for being chubby, I decided to do something about it and read every book I could find about calories, exercise, and dieting. (Mom and Dad don’t know that part. They think it’s a “new phase”). If I could find the willpower to fully follow those dieting rules like doing a juice fast, eating only grapefruit and soup, or restricting to just vegetables, I’d probably be a lot thinner. Unless I told you about what I do, you probably wouldn’t believe me because I’m not super skinny like some of the girls in my school. I have a big belly and my arms and thighs are flabby. Eventually, I’ll have a double or triple chin if I don’t get my act together. Since I’m not thin, or even lean and toned, no one suspects what I’ve been doing. But that weekend my parents were away, the twins were on top of me all the time. Now that they’re a
little older, they’re starting to become more aware of stuff. Like when we were having dinner one night, I made them mac and cheese with hot dogs, which is Dana’s favorite. But then I only made myself a bowl of low-sodium chicken broth to help me feel full. Dana looked down at her plate, and then at mine asking, “How come you never eat with us?” I stammered, but before I could answer, Kim jumped in and argued, “Don’t be dumb, Dana. She’s eating with us right now.” “Not really,” Dana retorted. “She never eats when we eat. Haven’t you noticed? And then, sometimes I’ll go to look for a cookie or something and she’s eaten like the whole box.” “I do not,” I protested. “Yeah. I guess you’re right,” Kim nodded, ignoring me. This conversation made me furious. First, both my sisters are blonde, skinny, and gorgeous. Even when they’re older, they will never understand what I have to go through. Second, what I eat or don’t eat is none of their stupid business and third, they were talking about it. So, I marched over to the sink, tossed the soup down the drain and heaped my bowl full with twice as much as they were having. “Happy?” I sneered. “Yep,” Dana grinned unashamedly. “Now we’re all the same. Maybe when we get older, people will think we’re triplets.” She was so sweet. It was hard to stay mad at Dana, even though no one in her right mind would ever think that. My sisters have big blue eyes with long lashes and these naturally thin bodies—not like mine, where I have to work so hard just to look normal. They’re starting to get taller and, right now, they’re at that perfect kid age where you’re all arms and legs and you don’t have to wear a bra yet. I miss that. I wish I could just run and not have to worry about my boobs getting in the way. Anyway, I wasn’t mad at her anymore… until I started eating. It was all Dana’s fault, really. I had been doing perfectly that whole week until she screwed it up. Once I started eating, I felt out of control and couldn’t stop. I scarfed down the first bowl in under a minute then went back for seconds then thirds before they were even done with their first helpings. “Oink, oink,” Dana joked and she and Kim burst into giggles. I wanted to scream but I kept my temper and sent them to the living room to watch a movie. It was then that I heard Dana say she didn’t feel well. I ignored her, partially because I was angry and partially because I figured she ate too much, just like I had. I was trying to count up how much I’d eaten. It was a lot. The whole week was ruined with that one meal. I’d only had a few calories before dinner. The broth at dinner would have brought me to my limit. Instead, I’d pigged out and ingested close to triple the calories I planned on eating that day just with dinner alone. I was worried. Throwing up can take quite a bit of time and, if I did it right, the girls would be sure to notice. So, I decided I’d have to run it out then try puking in the park where no one would see. “I’m going for a run,” I told them. “Don’t go, Jessie,” Kim complained. “Come watch the movie with us. It’s just getting to the good part.” “I can’t,” I answered. “Adults have to exercise. There’s another DVD from the video store on top of the TV. Just start that if I’m not back in time.”
“I feel hot and pricky,” Dana whined, coming up to me at the front door and hugging my leg like she used to when she was five. “Take off your sweater then, silly,” I fluffed her hair and bolted out the door. I’ve mapped out a few different running routes around our house—a 5K, a 10K, 10 miles. I decided to do the ten mile route and ran about five miles before the carbs sitting in my stomach started to boil. I could feel the fat congealing in my gut and making its way toward my arteries. By that point, I was approaching the park, so I sprinted over to my favorite garbage can, which sits behind a few bushes where most people can’t see. I drank my whole water bottle to make the process easier and then made everything come up. My stomach ached and my throat burned. I could still taste the vomit in my mouth but all the water was gone. I was tired then yet I knew it wasn’t enough. So I did it again and again until I was sure everything was gone. Then, I ran the five miles back home. I paused on the doorstep. “Was that enough?” I wondered. I decided it wasn’t. So, I added an extra 5K onto the workout, making for 13. 1 miles total, a half marathon length. My time sucked, but I was somewhat proud of myself —tired, exhausted and completely wiped out but proud. I was finally making progress. I dragged myself in the doorway and planned to head up to the shower, when footsteps came crashing down the stairs. “Where the hell have you been?” Kim demanded. “It’s been almost three hours since you left. Dana’s throwing up and she says she’s cold, even though her face is bright red and she’s all sweaty.” Kim started crying, “We were here all alone. When you didn’t come back, I thought maybe you were dead. I didn’t know what to do.” I didn’t know what to do either. I just stood there looking at my beautiful sister, her pale cheeks covered in tears, her nose all red because she’d probably been crying for a while now. I felt so bad. I couldn’t believe I’d left them alone for so long. Then, I kinda got scared, too. “Did you tell Mom and Dad?” I asked. My heart started beating wildly off rhythm. “No,” she sniffled, “it’s their special time and I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, especially not since you’ve been so cool this weekend—actually hanging out with us and everything.” “OK,” I took a deep breath, “go get some washcloths and a bucket. We can cool her down with the washcloths and she can get sick in the bucket if she has to.” Kim wiped her snotty nose on her sleeve but seemed to cheer up a bit. “OK,” she agreed. I took Dana’s temp and it was 102. She was so small and shivering that I almost cried, but I didn’t want Kim to start crying again too, so instead, I hurried Dana to bed and cleaned up the bathroom. She cried that her mouth felt gross, so I gave her a clean wet washcloth to suck on… and I secretly took one for myself as well. Then, I gave her some aspirin to bring down the fever and I read a story to both of them until they both fell asleep. Once they were settled, I shut their bedroom door and nearly collapsed. I had no energy left but I knew Mom and Dad would be upset if they found out Dana had been sick and no one told them. So, I called to tell them what was going on. By the time they called again to check on her the next morning, the fever had broken and she had stopped vomiting. But, she and Kim (who also caught the bug, though not nearly as bad) were in bed for the rest of the weekend. When Mom and Dad came back, no one said anything and I thought I was safe. But, clearly one of them blabbed…so between that incident and the diary page my parents found, we got stuck with Aunt Edna this weekend and I’ll probably be forced into therapy. I still feel guilty about what happened. My stomach churns every time I think about it. Dana’s fever could have made her pass out, like what happened to my friend Tiffany once. Even
if she hadn’t gotten sick, I never should have left them alone that long. Anything could have happened in those three hours… However, at the same time, that night was also the start of my marathon training. When Mom and Dad got back from vacation, I decided to do the half-marathon run at least three times a week. I usually can’t complete it because my body’s so fat and weak, but I try to push through. They never suspect, since I always claim to be studying at the library. While I’m sure Aunt Edna knows a little bit about what’s going on, having her here is not going to stop me from pursuing my goals. She can’t make me eat but, if she does, or if I give in out of weakness, I’ll just run in the afternoon, sneak out at night, or work out in my room. I have exercise tapes and a small TV and VCR in my room, so sometimes at night, I watch them on mute and do aerobics for a few hours. Once, I went all night long. It was so great. I could probably do that tonight if I tried. Yours, Jessie
February 22, 2000 Dear Diary, Mom and Dad still aren’t back. They were supposed to come back last night but they called Aunt Edna and told her they “still needed to talk things over”. So, I’m stuck with her until tomorrow, I guess. I’m pretending to eat “normally” as far as everyone is concerned. I’m hoping Aunt Edna will give Mom and Dad a good report and they’ll think I’m “cured,” as if I needed curing. School today was a nightmare. I felt completely invisible to most of the people there. Tiffany and Christine decided to skip school to go out for Chinese food during our free period, and they totally didn’t invite me…OK, so I might not have gone even if they had. I mean, they have invited me before. But, the thought of all that greasy food sitting in my belly through the rest of the day? No, thank you very much. Both my friends are rail thin and extremely pretty right now, but if they don’t watch themselves, they’ll get the freshman fifteen plus once they get to college. When they have kids? Forget about it. You can’t just get your figure back after that, unless you put in the time and dedication up front. But still, it would have been nice to be asked. Instead, I went to the guidance office for an extra shift at my work-study job. I enjoy my work-study position because it’s quiet in the office, and I can get schoolwork done after I file and make photocopies and stuff. Also, I get to stand there and greet people, most of whom are simply coming in for advice about choosing a college. But some of them are there to get help, or because they’re mandated to come. It’s not nice to say, but some of the meaner girls are required to come in, for whatever reason, and it sometimes makes me feel good that I’m on the other side of the desk and these girls who look down on me and make fun of me are probably in there crying their eyes out about how they’re pregnant or addicted to drugs or something. Honestly, I really don’t like other girls and they don’t like me. Christine, Tiffany, and I are sort of friends of convenience. We don’t fit into any one group at school and we all want to
get into good colleges but, to my mind, it’s more like we’re frenemies. Once we go to college, I’ll probably never see them again. They might go to the same school, or room together or something lame like that but I’m not going to let anyone hold me back, especially not some vapid girl like Tiffany, or some overbearing bore like Christine. I know I sound like a complete witch right now. Sometimes, it does feel like my heart is completely empty and I feel lonely and depressed but then I just think, “Not having friends is good. You don’t need anyone.” That makes me feel strong even though my piece of crap body is so weak. My plan is to ditch this town after high school. I want to be a lawyer and not that pie in the sky, “I’m going to help the little people” or “I’m going to defend people wrongly accused of murder” kind of lawyer. No, I want to go into medical malpractice because that’s where the real money is. Firms are always looking for people to defend them when their medications don’t work the right way…and smaller clients are always looking to get in on a big class-action lawsuit, so there’s a lot of money to be made on both sides of the fence. It might take a few extra years because they recommend you get a medical degree as well as a law degree but with my Advanced Placement courses this year and next, I’ll be starting out college as a junior, so I’ll have a good head start. In the meantime, I’m stuck here in high school hell where I have to suffer through pointless classes like gym. Now, it’s not that I mind working out (obviously). I love to exercise. I just don’t love being all sweaty and awkward in front of a group of thin gorgeous popular girls. For example, last week we played volleyball, and one of the girls on my own team deliberately spiked the ball into my head. It was mortifying but I pretended to laugh along. Then said I had to go to the bathroom and hid there the rest of class. Tomorrow, we’re swimming. You used to be able to lie about swimming and just say you had your period but they caught on and now everyone has to participate. Anyway, I don’t really even have a time of the month. I think it’s honestly because I find it so gross, I’ve trained my body not to do it as much as possible. Then, about three times a year, I get it for like a long time —like a couple weeks, and it’s extremely heavy and painful and annoying because I can’t work out the same way…Gross. I know. In the meantime, I ate perfectly today, even with Aunt Edna skulking around. My calorie counts are in my other journal, but let’s just say that I hit my ultimate goal. Mostly, I had salad without dressing and plain black coffee, which I hate, but I read an article about how caffeine can increase your heart rate, decrease your appetite and help with weight loss. So, the bitterness was worth it. Perfectly yours, Jessie
February 23, 2000 Dear Diary, Today was, without a doubt, the worst day of my life. I’m so stupid and worthless. I don’t really even know how to begin.
As I said yesterday, we had to go swimming today in gym. I would have considered leaving my suit at home but at our school, gym is graded and you get five points off every day you don’t participate. I’m not going to ruin my perfectly good grade point average just for gym, even if it is psychological torture. I changed into my swimsuit in the bathroom stall. Everyone else changes in front of each other like it’s no big deal but I don’t even like people looking at me when I have all of my clothes on and I know that people like Alissa Masterson and her whole crew would totally size me up and, before I could spit, there’d be a whole set of rumors floating around about the size of my ugly floppy breasts, or the color of my too-deep belly button or something. I hate my body so much. I wish I could trade it out for Alissa’s, or for Madison Granger’s. Madison is six inches shorter than me and has the tiniest waist. When she wears a lower cut shirt, you can see her collar bone jutting out. When she wore her bikini in gym today, I could see all her ribs, and her hip bones have that cut that all the Hollywood stars have. She honestly looks like she’s still eleven or twelve because she barely has any boobs at all. I’m so jealous. I’m way too tall, I feel like a giant most of the time so, when I saw Madison and Alissa, I decided I was not going to change my giant, awkward Jabba the Hut body in front of the other girls. It’s bad enough I have to swim with them. My swimsuit has a skirt, not like the kind that old ladies wear, but more like one of those slick tennis skirts. It’s a tankini, so it looks cool enough that no one makes fun of it like they do with the girls who can’t afford a good bathing suit, or are the girls like Amy Natty who are so fat they have to wear a giant one piece instead of a bikini. But, my suit still covers everything, with the skirt hiding my enormous thunder thighs, and a special band to suck in my flabby stomach. I hoped we could do laps. I figured, if they were going to make us swim, at least I could get some real exercise in. But, the oh-so-wise gym teachers from on high decided that we’d do diving today—a preposterous idea, since most of the girls had on skimpy bikinis that were sure to fall off as soon as they hit the water… which was exactly what happened to Fiona Jamieson, who was first up to the diving board. Fiona is one of the cool girls and Alissa Masterson’s best friend—Alissa being the queen bee of the cool girl clique. So, when Fiona performed a pristine swan dive and surfaced, sans top, instead of cowering or crying with embarrassment like a freak like me would have done, she swam over to her top, grabbed it with one hand and get out of the pool totally topless like it was no big deal. I just stared at her, open mouthed. Not because she has a good body, which she sort of does, even though her middle is a bit pudgy, but because she was so completely brazen about it, strutting like it didn’t even matter. She honestly did not care that everyone could see nearly her entire body. Then, it happened. Fiona saw me staring at her, and sneered, “Are you jealous, or are you trying to check me out?” I could have thrown up right then. I’m not gay or anything. It’s not that I think there’s something wrong with being gay. In fact, Maria Decker, who is also in our class, has a girlfriend, and no one cares because being a gay is not that big of an issue, at least not at our school… but I’m just not. I do think about girls’ bodies a lot, but that’s just because I’m comparing them to my own—trying to see how I measure up. In this instance, I was a bit jealous. Fiona might have a little pudge at her waist but she also has a nearly perfect chest. I was staring because I was trying to figure out whether or not they were paid for. Her parents are loaded, and when we were fifteen, she was complaining about how flat she was. Then, one summer, she totally “blossomed”, yeah, right.
“Well? What’s your problem, weirdo?” she poked me in the shoulder. She was still topless, but after she said that, all the attention was focused on me. I didn’t say anything. I just put my head down, slouched my shoulders over a bit and tried to slump back into the diving board line. But it didn’t matter that I slouched away because by then, everyone started staring at me and whispering. It was completely humiliating. I couldn’t even leave because I could see our teacher Mrs. Sherwood. She wasn’t looking right then and she wasn’t close enough to hear what was going on but she would have sent me to the principal’s office if I tried to leave. So, I just stood there, looking at the floor and trying not to cry, as Fiona put her top back on. When Fiona had her top back in place, she leaned in close to me and asked, “What’s the matter, creeper? Not interested in looking anymore now they’re all covered up?” Then, she shoved past me, digging her shoulder into my side. I stumbled back and fell into Alissa, who was snickering behind me. “Ugh,” Alissa said, pushing me to the cold floor, “get your gross dyke body off of me. Fiona, look. Jessie’s trying to feel me up.” I started to cry a little then—not the loud tears I cry at night sometimes when no one’s around but just those angry tears that seep out of your eyes when you’re frustrated and can’t say anything. I knew that fighting back wouldn’t do any good. It would just give them more fuel to throw on the fire when they burned my effigy, later. Then, Tiffany came over but instead of helping me up, she curled her lip and sniped, “Yeah, keep running, Jessie. It doesn’t look like it’s helping yet.” Then she laughed. I think she felt a little bit guilty right after she said it because, when she saw my face, she added, “Can’t you take a joke?” I thought, “She’s right. If I laugh this off, maybe it won’t be so bad.” So I hopped up and said, “Whatever, Tiff. You know your legs are fatter than mine and I don’t know what you’re talking about with my supposedly gross body. Everybody knows that Amy Natty the big fat fatty is the biggest one here. She’s so huge she can’t even wear a real swimsuit.” So then everyone’s eyes swung over to Amy Natty, a new girl at our school who is a huge fatty and was standing a few spaces ahead of me in line. She was wearing a big oversized t-shirt and shorts over the top of her bathing suit. I felt bad, especially since I’ve seen her in the guidance office lately and I don’t think it’s just to talk about her college choices but I was so embarrassed and angry, I pushed that guilt aside. Then, I don’t know what made me do it but I reached over and pinched some of her flab, and said, “If I have rolls, Amy has a whole breadbasket.” Everyone laughed, which was good and took the focus off me and my fat ugly legs. But, unfortunately, Mrs. Sherwood had now come over (she certainly took her time) and I was, of course, the only one who got in trouble. She yelled for us all to go back into the locker room and told me she’d see me in her office after class. Then, she pulled Amy aside. I saw that Amy had tears in her eyes and looked completely stunned. Many people make fun of her but I never had. We obviously aren’t friends but we’re not enemies either. So, Mrs. Sherwood was talking to her, but Amy merely shook her head and blushed, clearly trying to get out of the whole situation. I’m sure that she didn’t want to be called out and put on display even more. Later, while sitting in her office, Mrs. Sherwood stared me down, “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Jessie. I’ve never seen you do anything that mean before.” This comment made me furious because she ignores everything. I get picked on literally all the time and she never says one thing about it. So, instead of acting ashamed, which was
clearly what she wanted, I rolled my eyes and said, “Look, Mrs. S., you’re a gym teacher. Your whole job is supposed to be keeping kids fit and preventing them from getting fat. Amy is a huge tub of lard who never tries in here. She doesn’t swim, she refuses to run and when we play sports, she just stands there like a dumb cow. You can just tell that she’s going to be a lazy fatty who sits on her massive behind all day watching TV and rides a cart around the grocery store because she can’t even walk. That’s her destiny. But unlike you, I don’t want to just sit back and watch her fall into it. If a few mean comments can get her to realize how disgusting her body is, and get her to start exercising, I refuse to feel bad about it. Childhood obesity is a real thing, and it kills a lot more people than smoking does, nowadays.” It was a long rant and, when I finished, she just sat there staring at me, open-mouthed. I meant all of it. I felt a little bit bad for doing what I did but I meant what I said. Mrs. Sherwood didn’t look like she was going to send me to the principal, probably because she knew I was right, so I just shrugged, picked up my things and left. Tiffany was waiting for me when I came out. “Way to go after the weak sheep in the herd, Jessie. What happened?” she asked, laughing, as if she hadn’t just called me disgusting a few minutes ago. I tossed my head, “Nothing. I told her off. She knows I’m right. Amy totally deserved it.” “For what?” Tiffany asked. “For what? For being a complete disgusting blob that I have to look at every day. My arteries get clogged just being in her fat presence,” I retorted. Then, I saw Amy standing a few feet away. She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something but, instead, she backed down and turned away. I tried not to feel guilty. In a way, I did mean to help her a little bit. She needs to know how unhealthy she is. I guess I could have been nicer about it and given her diet tips or something. Tiffany chomped the gum she always carries, “Well, I’m sorry I made that comment. You know I was totally kidding, right? Like, you have a totally slammin’ bod. I wish I had your abs.” It was so obvious that she was just sucking up because she wanted to copy me in math class later. But, I just laughed and said, “I know. My abs aren’t that great though. Yours are way nicer and your hair always looks perfect.” So, things were OK again, as good as they ever are between us and we walked to math together. However, I couldn’t concentrate all through class. I had been completely humiliated and betrayed by one of my only friends. I had told off a teacher and bullied a weak defenseless girl. I had a horrible knot in my stomach and felt totally rotten inside. To try to clear my head and my stomach after school, I tried to vomit up what little I had eaten for lunch, then went running before picking up the twins from their after school program. Mom and Dad came home after I put the girls to bed. Dad said something about reading some “very disturbing things” in my food journal, but they decided they weren’t going to do anything yet. Instead, they warned me they’d be “keeping an eye on things for a while.” So now, I don’t know what to do. I’m going to have to plan out a whole routine that gets around their new rules in a way they won’t notice. Yours, Jessie
February 28, 2000 Dear Diary, I had a perfect day today. All of my classes went well. I got a 105 percent on my history test (a perfect score plus bonus points). Then, I skipped gym. After what happened last time, there was no way I was going back today. I only had math afterwards, and I’m getting an A+ in there, so I skipped that as well and went for a run. It was amazing. I got so many miles in. My marathon training is definitely back on track. I ate a few calories before running, then ran for three hours (lots of calories burned). Then, I ate a very small low-cal snack after. My total calorie count is a little much, but I weighed myself seven times today, and realized I lost a half pound. Hooray. Best day ever. It’s sometimes hard to actually lose weight. Sometimes, I lose like five or six pounds in a week. Other times, when I’m not eating perfectly, my weight just hangs on. That’s why I weigh myself at least six times a day. I want to make sure that I stay on track throughout the day. Mom and Dad aren’t suspicious. They usually don’t even come home from work until at least seven or eight, so it’s surprising when they even notice anything. After I finished my run, I decided to pick up the twins early from their daycare center and take them out for some fun. We went to the park, played Frisbee went on the swings, and then went to a nearby ice cream parlor. They had huge sundaes, and I was jealously drooling over the big piles of hot fudge and whipped cream, but I managed to not give in to temptation. Instead, I watched the joy on their sweet faces as they gobbled up all that sugar. When we came home, they were totally bouncing around, telling Mom and Dad how we all had ice cream. We did have fun, and technically, since no one specifically asked me what I ate, I didn’t lie. It was nice to see that Mom and Dad were smiling at my “progress.” Mom came into my room before I went to bed. “You were great today, honey. Glad to see you’re back to your old self,” she cooed, giving me a side hug. I went into what I call “perfect daughter mode” then. “I know,” I lied. “I guess I just got a little carried away with my dieting. It’s just hard, you know, this whole teenager thing. I want to look good, and my friends all have intense workouts. And, I really do like the running. But you and Dad were right. If I want to have energy to run and do good in school, I have to eat more, for sure.” “Do well,” she said. “Huh?” “Do well in school. Superman does good. You do well.” That pissed me off. Because, I was totally lying to her, but even though she thought I was being sincere, she basically ignored my words and instead chose to correct my grammar. But, I was tired, and I didn’t want to ruin the vibe I was trying to put out. So, I just smiled and said, “Sorry, Mom. You’re right. ‘Do well’ in school.” She smiled, “Honey, was this whole dieting craze all about a boy?” I was relieved. That would be the most obvious reason, if any boys took time to notice me. “Yep. I didn’t want to say before because I thought it would sound stupid,” I lied again. “It’s not stupid,” she assured me. “Girls try to look good for boys all the time. But, a quality man will not care what you look like. You’re a beautiful girl inside and out; you need to wait for the right guy to come along who can truly see that.” I just smiled and nodded until she gave me another hug and left, but it was complete nonsense. First, it’s just the kind of garbage parents are supposed to say. Second, if I was
beautiful on the outside, I wouldn’t have to wait for a guy to come along to see it. Everyone would be able to see it immediately. Third, I’m not beautiful on the inside. I’m a mess—just a hot black ball of hatred and sadness boiling up all over. I don’t even know why I’m mad half the time, but whatever is inside of me is the opposite of beautiful. I tried not to think about that because today was one of the most perfect days ever in terms of food and exercise. I even lost a little weight. Tomorrow, I plan on doing the same thing, only maybe going biking instead of running because I read in a magazine yesterday that switching up your workout tricks your muscles and makes you burn more calories. Until tomorrow, Jessie