When

When I was five I was shown a picture of myself. I was confused. I did not know what my mom was talking about. That was not me. When it became clear that it was me all I could think about was how there must have been a mistake. That was not supposed to be my body.

When I was 27 years, 4 months, 13 days days old I looked at a picture of myself. This was not supposed to be my body.

My thinking has never changed.

When I was four my dad would carry me to bed. I would be amazed that he could carry something so heavy.

When I took swimming lessons I thought it was a miracle that the floaties could hold me up.

When my family had family portraits done I was worried that other people were going to see me stationary in a picture, looking at me for as long as they wanted.

When I ate food I thought it was just holding this body down. Instead of going off to find the right body and make the switch.

When I was seven I thought that the body I was given was taking up too much space.

When I was 16 I had hope that I could change my current body into the “right” body.

If anyone ever wondered when my eating disorder started. That was it. It was when I would sit on the floor of my bedroom, looking through magazines trying to figure out what my correct body was supposed to be. It was when I walked to CVS, bought a box of chocolate covered raisins, went to my old elementary school, laid them all out, counted them, and went home. It was when I stole diet pills. It was when I failed my driving test after staying up all night quietly exercising in my room.

When will it be over?