It might come as a surprise to some of you, some of you who see me as strong and independent and anti-conformist and what not, but I've had this thing for a while. Well, I had it, but now I don't, and now I hate that I had it. It's this small little thing called Anorexia nervosa.
Yes, you have that out of the way. You can now continue reading.
When I was 15 I was nice and curvy, a bit too soft here and there but with a nice rack and enough to hold on to. I was pretty confident too. Then I moved to America. The thing about America is that either you're fat, or you're anorexic. If you're not fat, you're so afraid of getting fat you go anorexic. That's the way it is, there is no way around it (unless you have an exception gene or something).
The problem is though, "But Kristiina I thought you lived in Holland?" I do.
I moved here on January 1st, 2010, and have lived here ever since. Yet here my weight loss didn't stop, it continued just the same. In short, in the past two years I've gone from 60kg (a lot of boobage weight, remember) to 50kg. I don't like it.
I don't like how my hip bones stick out like the pelvis of a starving dog, I don't like knowing that I have at least 5 bras in my drawer that are at least a cup size too large now, I don't like seeing my collarbones outlined like crossbones on a pirate flag, I don't like any of it.
Most of all I don't like my rib cage sticking out. I don't have a flat tummy, I have a caved in one. The worst bit is that I still have a lot of body fat, so I'm bony but I'm soft. I hate all of it. I want my tits back, I want my ribcage to stay in, I want my collarbones to look normal... It's made me uncoordinated and clumsy, because I still move and behave as if I weighed the same amount I used to.
I hate it. I want my boobs back.
But I'm totally over it.