before beginning:
this is a continuation.
of a story.
about ned.
ned being my nasty,
little eating disorder.
sarah, myself, carolyn, and amanda
i thought it was about weight.
my anxiety about having my picture taken.
i thought it was about the weight.
thought it was that the pictures reflected what i couldn't admit to myself.
that i was fat.
i thought that was it.
but it wasn't. not really.
we were out on saturday night. my friends and i.
i with my little camera nestled deep into the folds of my go-to-black-bag (which has finally reached the critical point of looking just-worn-in-enough {but i digress}).
yes, i with my little camera. i who knew it was there. i who wanted to take it out. but couldn't.
until amanda (my infinitely wise roommate) asked where it was and began to do what i could not.
and it was there, in the bar on saturday night, perched on my stool, with prosecco in hand, that i stared at that little camera screen and declared, oh, i look like an adult.
but that wasn't quite right. that wasn't exactly what i meant to say. what i meant to say was, oh, there i am. that's me. that's me, happy. huh.
illumination ensued.
i realized it was not the reflection of fat i feared.
it was that i couldn't find myself.
it was that i saw instead this girl who was so sad. this shell of someone i once knew.
but now, after all this time, i am beginning to see the picture in its entirety. and it is one of such happiness.
yes, yes, i still see the bits and pieces--of course--my disappearing eyes and brand-new-renegade-cheek-mole (an audacious little thing it is!). but i can see beyond those things. beyond what i like and do not like.
and suddenly there i am. an adult (or so it would seem). and a happy one at that.
go figure.