This was inspired by something that one of the girls I know who also suffers from ED asked me. "What would your 11-year-old self say to you if she could see you now?"
She walks up to me, her bright emerald eyes shining behind a veil of unshed tears. Pain and confusion have replaced the happiness and joy that once shone there. She stares up at me, a true feat considering my own height, and when she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper.
"Why?"
I cannot answer. The words catch in my throat, so instead I say nothing.
"Look at yourself," she whispers, "What have you done?"
I try to find the strength to tell her, but I can't. The numbness has returned, enveloping me like a soft summer breeze, a fire on a cold winter night. This feeling of emptiness is more terrifying than anything I've ever experienced, and I want to run.
"You had dreams and goals. You had talent. You were so bright. You could be so beautiful. Don't throw all that away. What is more important to you, reaching your goals, being who you wanted to be, or being thin?"
I turn away, tears threatening to fall, hot and scalding, from my eyes. I can't listen anymore. I can't bear this child, who has not yet seen the future of her life, saying these things to me now. This child, young and innocent, hasn't seen who she is going to become, what she will become.
"You can still fix it. You can make this right. Please. Stop. Stop now, come back, leave this all behind while you still can. Before it's too late."
After a gentle hug and a kiss sealed with tears, she turns, walking slowly away from me. I watch her retreating figure and wonder how I have gone from this, the small yet happy child I used to be, to the darkness I have become. My eleven-year-old self turns one final time, and in that brief moment when our eyes meet, I can suddenly see the pain that will change her forever. The change has begun. It's already too late.
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