Porcelain Goddess

My early teenage years are riddled with memories of flickering florescent lights and the harsh feeling of cold tile on my bare feet.

Delicate hands collaged with chipped nail polish and faded sharpie cling to the damp surface, holding on for dear life like a person lost at sea hangs on to a life ring.

Every night when the darkness swallows me up and demonic shadows dance across my bedroom walls, I am reminded of my flaws.

My thunder thighs, cellulite covered stomach and extra large pajama bottoms only serve to validate what I have been telling myself since the age of 8.

"You need to lose weight."

My mind is aflutter with images of food, equations of calorie intake and the words of every stick thin girl who passes me in the halls at school.

Their looks of disgust and vicious giggles stay with me long after the school bell rings.

So when I am all alone as I creep down the hall, it is their bodies I envision. As I lock the bathroom door and turn on the faucet, I picture their flat stomachs pencil arms, that gap between their thighs, and I pretend I look like them.

Because, they may be mean but at least they are pretty. And that's all I have ever wanted for myself.

So every night I bow to the porcelain goddess as I sacrifice the contents of my stomach to her, in the hopes that she will find this offering acceptable and grant my wish. That she would find me worthy and bless me with that barbie doll body I so desperately crave.

In those moments, my throat burns, my eyes water and my whole body convulses at the strength of a toothbrush and my gag reflex combined.

But just as quickly as it begins, so too does it end. Like a wave crashing against the shore, so violent and beautiful at the same time.

And with one single whoosh, all of my pain, sorrow, and heartache is flushed away, the haunting sound of it echoing in my mind for years to come.

The unrealistic goals I have set for myself are brandished In notebooks, on refrigerators, and all over the internet.

I know I am not the only one to be enthralled by the call of the porcelain goddess. I pray that one day, we will all be able to break free.