Ugly World: The Beauty Standard

When will it stop?

TW!

I wish I looked skinny.

I wish I had a 28-inch waist.

My parents are telling me, "You look pretty, but you should drop a few pounds."

My friends are all skinny and pretty.

I want to fit in.

After all, I am ugly and fat.

I don't want to be called fat in public.

I don't want people's eyes to judge me.

I'll change, in the name of beauty.

I should lose that weight.

Would I then be beautiful?

I go on a diet—no more sugar.

I should count my calories.

I should eat less.

I failed.

I should just starve.

I would lose weight faster, and people would notice me.

Day after day, pound after pound, I've lost some weight.

But it's not good enough.

Day after day, pound after pound, I've lost some weight.

I don't feel good, but at least I'm skinny.

Day after day, pound after pound, I've lost some weight.

Shit.

I feel like shit.

I feel like if I ate anything, I would die, but if I didn't, I would.

But at least I'm skinny.

At least I'm pretty.

After all, the weight on the scale matters.