Trigger warning: eating disorder

Beyoncé is usually right about everything, but, in my life, one thing stands out the most true- Pretty hurts.

No one talks about how severely competitive the ballerina world is. You have to keep your body in shape, and your look matters.

Even in my youth, I had to prioritize my skin and diet above all else. A porcelain look and nonexistent waistline was the norm.

Do the skin care,

Stay out of the sun.

Sugar is the enemy,

Veges are fun.

This was the ingrained mantra I would carry. For sometime this was easy to maintain, but as I got older, my metabolism and hormones were changing. Any sign of a blemish would ruin me. Any bloating or pound gain had me self-deprecating.

At some point my mother scolded me for letting myself go; three pounds showed right away, and I got my first pimple. Was the cookie worth it? Yes. So much. It was the tastiest delicacy I’ve ever had. But, in my life, it’s my forbidden fruit.

I heard some girls in the studio would make themselves throw up. I thought they were crazy, until I found myself here, staring at the remains of breakfast I just let out.

I finally get it, why they do it, and now I must do what I have to to keep my image.

We have a show coming up in three weeks and I can’t slip up my image. I play the lead in Swan Lake and my instructor values me as her prodigy. Letting her down would ruin any chances at a future.

For the next few weeks I’m eating veges and throwing up that isn’t. I’m getting skinnier, beating out the bloating. I’m avoiding the sun and cookies, ensuring my face holds its glow and porcelain look.

Through my determination, I’m breaking. My body hates this. I feel sick. I miss food. I want to eat cookies unapologetically. I don’t want to throw up, but I’m doing this only until the show.

__________________

The day arrives, and it’s a full crowd. I look at myself in the mirror, ensuring everything looks perfect. My waist is slim, my skin is perfect, but my eyes are sad- waiting for this to end.

I give the performance my all and find my mother looking at me with the proudest look. My instructor is bowing with me, whispering in my ear that my beauty will take me to the ends of the earth. Amidst the roaring applause, a silent tear fell, reflecting the untold story I could never tell.