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  • Writer's picturePriyanshi Thakkar


I'd sit down for my meal

Even though, the mere thought of food

Would make me squeal.

I'd eat until I was full to the brim

And then I'd crib, feeling grim.

Running to the washroom, I'd sit in there for hours.

Two fingers down my throat, until it felt sour.

From 53 to 41 my weight kept dropping,

In my mind however, there was no stopping.

They all thought it was a physical illness.

CT scan, MRI, endoscopy all of it was a miss.

Back then I didn't know it was bullemia,

Infact I thought it could be leukemia.

When I realized it was my own doing,

I put an end to it with all my being.

I suffered for two years and recovery took me another two.

Therapy made me realize it was the fault of that ballet shoe.

Now I stand strong, but still afraid,

Afraid that I don't go back to my old ways.

Society has a way of making us feel inferior,

Too tall, too thin, too fat, too short,

Basically it's our biggest barrier.

And then there comes the fashion industry,

LIE being it's synonym in the dictionary.

We’ll never be enough in the eyes of another,

all we need Is approval from the mirror.

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