Avocados Monologue

There are many things you can’t take back. An insult. An admission of love. For me, what I can’t take back are two and a half years of my life where I tortured my body. As much as I can try to make up for it, my knees don’t forget, they still ache. My bones, some far too thin and brittle for my stature, to this day won’t accept my apology. Do I deserve this? I hope, dear reader, that you aren’t seeking the answer to this as well, that you never took the hatred of the skin you’re in to the edge, then took one step too far, plunging into the icy water below. So, I will answer it for you. What is it like?

Is it never being able to look at food the same way again. Food has become my go to way to comfort myself, as if I’m allowing myself a little extra chocolate because it has become the currency to my emotions. It’s knowing that avocados have fat, but the good kind. Butter is the bad kind. An apple contains
Who’s to judge what’s harmless and what’s hurtful? Am I allowed to be offended when a friend jokes that the best diet is to be a bulimic with Alzheimer's, because you throw up and then forget about it, allowing yourself to purge yourself of impurities multiple times in a day! It’s having a discussion in your English class about a music video that glorifies and also mocks eating disorders, and watching, shocked, as a boy you thought of as sensible informs the girls of the class that they should not take so much offense to things. I always stand up against these misguided preachers, trying to educate on how sticks, stones, and words can all be painful, politely requesting that the next time they think twice before speaking. I stand up for my current self, my self those few years back who wasn’t strong enough, and I stand up for friends that are still searching for the courage to fight their stick thin demons and to stand with