Bodies

A big trend for 2017 so far has been the lingerie look.

Being a human is hard. Being a human with an eating disorder is inexplicably hard. Every time I think I have control over the situation, my eating disorder pulls a fast one on me and reminds me what is really in charge — food and exercise.

Everybody's compensating for something, right?

When we both moved to San Francisco in our 20s, she moved to a wealthy neighborhood and I moved into a neighborhood where old men had phone sex on the pay phone at the laundromat. Our friendship threatened her world in a way that it didn’t mine. The people I knew had neither wealth to protect nor any desire to play at that game, and so their lives were inspired by a freedom I adored. The kind of freedom that allows you to talk about shitting and fucking over dinner.

I found my first gray hair when I was 12 years old. Twelve. I had gray hair before I had a period.

This week in Babecamp we were talking about Sarai Walker’s novel Dietland.

On the day before Valentine’s Day, I had egg retrieval. Nothing says romance like sticking a literal needle through the walls of your vagina, amirite?

I don’t care about my weight. But other people do.