A sophomore in high school wearing Abecrombie and Fitch,
Trying to suck in my stomach for photos just another inch.
Shoulders back, head held high,
Faking the confidence I knew was a lie.
Feeling awkward, hating my bone structure, idealizing a slim Asian frame,
Being called “too ethnic” but also, “too white” reinforced my perceived disdain.
At my lowest I weighed in at 120, at my highest 250 pounds,
Believe me I know just how crazy that sounds.
Each season Marie Claire and other magazines set the bar for what we are to strive for,
Is it “Thin is in?” or “Junk in the trunk?” I can’t even remember anymore.
I try to judge my health by metrics like A1C and BMI,
I wear flattering clothes by Torrid, but my size 2 is a lie.
I’ve spent seasons drowning sorrow with carbs and others dying to be thin,
Conforming to trending beauty standards is a race that no one can win.
Talent, passion, and personality will take you farther than your looks ever could,
Do you believe in yourself now? Maybe it’s time that you should.
