I wished, beyond anything, that this body I was confined to could be as easy to leave as anything else in my life. I felt that I was at a loss to win, and this inability to render my control left me as lonely as ever. I felt lonely especially because I couldn’t talk to anybody about it. If I tried I was met with rolling eyes and misunderstandings – you are beautiful, you are skinny, you are perfect the way you are – but every time I saw myself the reflection that looked back at me watched me with disdain, and worse still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was never, and would never be enough for myself.
The myth of childhood told me that when I got older, I would innately gain some kind of understanding about the world that would allow me to move forward both productively and confidently.