It all started off very innocently, giving up sweets for lent. A few weeks in and the question presents itself: “Have you lost weight”? Followed by “you look great”… When you spend twenty plus hours a week in a leotard and tights someone telling you you look good will definitely go to your head.
Lent came and went and your no-sweets policy continues; the weight seems to just fall off. The following year the now Junior in high school you is on the swim team, still dancing twenty hours a week (around 3-4 hours a night) and wouldn’t dare eat more than 600 calories in a day.
One day you get home from a grueling swim practice, immediately headed to the fridge. You eat, then you eat some more, then suddenly you are manic shoving every morsel of food you can into your mouth. Soon you just collapse right there on the kitchen floor for fear your stomach might burst. Laying there baffled at what just happened the guilt sets in followed by panic- you have a dance performance in a matter of hours, so you struggle to stand, waddle to the bathroom, open the toilet and are surprised at how easily your index and middle finger slide to the back of your throat. After much effort, and heaving all you can do is stare into the once pearly white bowl. You’re exhausted, can’t believe what you have just done, but for some reason can’t wipe the diluted smirk of satisfaction from your face…. and the trouble takes a new form.
XoXO-Limardi <3
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