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  • Kamree Maull


Updated: Jul 27, 2019

Cincinnati, OH

In middle school my body started changing. I was filling out in ways I wasn’t use to. I’d look in the mirror and see pounds of fat that weren’t there. I didn’t understand it was just my body “becoming a woman”. Puberty, ya know. I couldn’t stop it, so I stopped eating.

I loved food, but I loved being skinny more. I wanted to be beautiful like the skinny girls on TV. I kept comparing myself. That was my mindset at such an impressionable age. I started this constant battle with eating too much and not enough. I knew this wasn’t healthy, so over the years I started working out and eating better. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because I was scared of gaining weight.

I counted every single one of my calories. I weighed myself twice a day. In high school, I’d force myself to eat crackers for meals and drank my calories with smoothies and coffee. Still, I wasn’t small enough. I would take long showers and play loud music, so that no one would hear me throwing up in the toilet. My mental health declined into depression, and of course the first thing to go with my declining mental health was my appetite. There’s been multiple times when I’ve lost 10-20 lbs from the lack of eating. Or days when all I could eat was a banana. Or times when the sight of food made me want to throw up. I would feel sick all the time. Fatigued. Nauseas. Weak. Not at all like myself.

I refuse to let an eating disorder get the best of me. I’ve been dealing with this more years than not, but I’m determined to end the cycle. I have to take that extra step to remind myself to always put my health first by feeding my body. And internalizing that skinny isn’t the only definition of beautiful. Starving myself isn’t a key to happiness, but self-acceptance is.

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