I need to be skinny, so that I can live my life without cringing at my reflection. So that I can go into a clothes shop, and pick out an outfit, grabbing the XS / S and just buying, knowing that it’ll look great without even having to try it on. So that I can stop worrying about what everyone thinks about me, how they’re all laughing behind my back about how fat I am. So that I can love myself without any doubts. I will be skinny. I will be handsome. With prominent collar bones, ribs and hips. Pale skin, flat chest, a jawline that hurts. When I walk into a room everyone will do a double take. When did he lose so much weight? When was the last time I saw him eat? And I’ll just smile and sit down because when was the last time I had eaten? My foggy brain can’t seem to remember, but that doesn’t matter now…
Because I keep loading my face with spoonful after spoonful. Do I not want to achieve this perfection? If so then continue! Keep stuffing your face like the pig that you are, binging on all those calories, because then that’s all you’re worth. Worth the jiggling thighs and the muffin top overflowing past the waistline of your sweatpants, with arms so heavy that you have trouble lifting them above your tiddies, which is exactly what they’ll be then. Bulging on your chest, curving your body into an unmistakably female figure. No one will be fooled into believing you’re a boy, ma’am and she will be all they’ll ever call you. Do you want that?
Or maybe, you want to be so flat that no one will question your gender? So flat that everyone will immediately know that you’re male, so that you can yourself look into a mirror.
Then put away that spoon.
-M
