A Head Full of Beauty

I'm not one for following trends, I've always had a very particular style which has been built up around my eating disorder/body distortions. I like what I like and what I like works on me... well so I think.... A standard day sees me wearing a floral pattern or plain dress, mid-thigh, usually with short sleeves and a long cardigan. Variations from this are rare and stressful. However, I am aware that - well - that I can't go on like this forever. I went into Levis' thinking that their new 'Curve' fitting would find me a pair of jeans that could make me look wonderful. I tried on pair after pair. Impossible. 'My bum... I can't... I can't...' 'There's nothing wrong with your bum', the staff kept saying I kept turning and turning, this angle and that, taking chunks of my thighs in my hands. 'Don't you know some women would kill for curves like yours? Men don't like skinny girls, seriously!' I privately rolled ...

I'm back in the suburbs of South London, sitting in a bright office, overlooking a sublime view of lime green grass bathed in glorious sunshine. A glorious English summer...and I'm in a long-sleeved shirt and knee length skirt...because nothing else fits me. No. I admit, I'm being overly-harsh. I refuse to wear anything else. Because nothing else fits me well enough. Nothing else hides me well enough. I hate my body. I want it to disappear. I finished uni on Tuesday. By some miracle I got my final assessment finished on time and handed in. I sat through lunch today at work in turmoil. My belly aches from eating. I had a salad with seafood. And a generous helping of calorific cous cous. And a yoghurt. Fat free, but still, a goddam yoghurt. Idiot, idiot, idiot. I could have just taken a place of green leaves and swished it around my plate. Why do I have to put on this stupid show of eating. The second I put down my knife and fork my head was screaming PURGE! I can't eat a...