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Step mom's Expectations

In the seventh grade, I was depressed. I didn't feel like I could live up to my step mom's high expectations, simply because she wouldn't let me.

If I brought home A's on my report cards, they should have been A+'s, etc. I realized that she wanted me to be perfect. I thought that maybe, if I worked hard, I could be perfect, and maybe, she would be proud of me.

So, I started thinking about what made a person perfect. Part of that was image, the other part was personality. She expected me to be quiet, so I stopped talking so much.

I also stopped eating breakfast and lunch. I wanted the perfect figure, because it's what I thought she wanted. I was already pretty skinny, but when I stopped eating, my child size six slim jeans were even too big, and I could see my bones.

I was so skinny. It was me against anorexia, and anorexia was winning. I lost fifteen pounds, and she didn't notice, nor did my father.

Then one day one of my friends noticed that I had been losing weight. She said, "I care about you. If you don't start eating, I will tell because that's what a friend is supposed to do."

That was my wake up call. I realized that someone did care about me, and it was up to me to live, or die. It was that simple, and I made it so difficult.

From then on, every time I eat, I think of my friend. I'm a recovering anorexic.


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