The Princess Diaries

Chapter Seven

Dear Diary,

So I might avoid Grandma now after I told her about how I stopped eating for a while, but can you blame me? Anorexia, the doctors called it (Anna, the other people in the support group named it,) and now that she knows I'm worried she'll look at me differently.

I don't like to think about those years in ballet, because they were hell for me, and I'm still a little mad at Mia for bringing it up in the first place. I know she meant no harm, but I had no intention of Grandma finding out about it.

The girls in my class were mean, evil even, and they only became more encouraged anytime the dance instructor would have a go at me if I wasn't perfect enough. They would trip me, call me names, pull my hair, and just make my life a misery, and no one did anything about it. Mum tried to talk to the dance instructor, but that made no difference, and I could do nothing because then they would all gang up on me. And I hated it because I used to love dancing.

The ballet was my escape from the world, it was my way to pretend like everything was fine and I could lose myself in the music. Then the bullying started and suddenly every time I danced I was looking for flaws in my technique. The dancing stopped being my refuge and started being my hell, and for that, I will never forgive those girls.

I don't blame them for my eating disorder, I did that to myself, and I had panic attacks before them, but the depression. The depression was a result of them, of feeling like a failure in everything I did because they said so, if lacking the motivation to do anything because what would be the point if in the end I still wasn't good enough?

So I blame them for that.

And I blame them for making me lose my passion for dancing.

In the end, leaving was the best thing for me, and I got better, slowly, but it happened. I have Dad to thank for that. When Mum told him about what I was doing to myself, he got the first flight to San Francisco and came to our home to talk.

He promised everything would be kept private, that he would help me, and that he loved me and wasn't angry. Then he booked an appointment with a private doctor, and a week later I was packing my bags and we were heading to England for a little while so I could get better and have a much-needed change of scenery.

I'll always be thankful to my dad for helping me through it all, especially now I know what jobs and responsibilities he was putting on hold back in Genovia. During that time in England, we got to know each other better, we bonded over everything, and even though it meant it hurt more when my dad died, I wouldn't change it for the world.

Anyway.

Back to my day. Mum woke me up this morning and told me she and Grandma talked about what was said yesterday at the dinner, and that Grandma understands and has agreed to not talk about it unless I bring it up first. Mum reassured me that grandma doesn't think any differently about me and that if anything, she'll think me stronger, but I don't fully believe that.

Mia came in a bit later and apologised a lot, and I could see she meant it, so I told her it was fine. After all, my sister couldn't have known that Grandma would start insisting I start back up again.

Mia told me that after I left (I walked home by the way) she and grandma drove back to the Genovian Consulate and that Mia accidentally let the car slip down a hill and it hit a tram, but that grandma got them out of trouble with the police by doing a fake ceremony thing that flattered the cop enough to let them go.

I have to say that writing that down into words makes it sound so unreal.

After I chatted with Mia, I sent her out so I could get ready for school, and then I went downstairs to see that no one had made any breakfast yet.