Four police officers showed up at my door at about 12:30 AM on April Fool’s day this year.
I was outraged when someone I trusted in one of my previous jobs told me, “You’re too emotional. How can I trust you with this responsibility?” As if the way I process emotions overrides my training. I just wanted to scream, “You don’t get it.” And many people don’t––its an epidemic in America that needs a solution. People have also often told me that I can’t expect them to know how I feel. While I can see the validity in their viewpoint, I don’t completely agree with them either, and here’s why.
I told myself I would never be that person; you know, the girl who’s extremely stick-thin? The one whose ribs show beneath her shirt? The one who only eats a morsel here and there? Except my story differs extremely from the typical person who starves themselves. I don’t have any body image problems, which is the hallmark of anorexia. While I control my weight––the primary symptom, according to Mayo Clinic––I don’t really care about the number on the scale.