It's getting worse

Mom

It's getting worse

I hate 

the way my tummy rolls when i sit in this chair and how i feel guilty when i eat a whole bag of peeler gummies and when i don't eat because i hate how i look in the mirror

Dad 

It's getting worse

I hate

how i don't like food anymore because it fills my tummy and then i won't be skinny again and i hate that i never believed when friends say "your pretty" and i still don't like the word because i just see a chubby girl 

Mom

I know 

I promised 

I would love myself by now

but i don't know how when every time i step on that scale i question the bread i had as a snack the milky way i had after finishing my homework even the salad and hummus i had for dinner because i thought it would change something 

I know

I had hoped things would change

but it's only getting worse those girls in my class with thigh gaps and flat tummys and i stay up late at night wondering why i will never look like them and i even started doing ab workouts and slim arm workouts and one day i only had one meal

But why do I sound proud

All I have ever wanted was to be healthy again

To be strong and happy

how come with each passing day i text my aunt more and more asking for confirmation that my body is ok that my acne will go away that one day maybe i will be happy 

Maybe one day I will be happy

Maybe one day I will look at myself with love

Maybe one day I won't have to track what I eat

Maybe one day I will never step on a scale because I know longer need numbers to prove I am worthy.