(60) Part Three Prologue

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A B B Y S • P O V

"It's not like I grew up hating what I looked like. There were things I knew I would change if I could. But it didn't eat away at me. It didn't consume me.

"But yeah as I got older, I started to feel it more. Ya know, having two brothers, identical twins, that the media are obsessed with can take its toll. I guess being here, at this facility, helped me to understand that better. I never resented them but it did feel a little unfair that I was working so hard to have this career. Yet, attention came to them without effort.

"All they had to do was post a photo in their swim shorts and the entire world would lose its mind. Yet, I would post a bikini shot and I get labels thrown at me. Slut. Whore. Attention seeker. Which to be honest, that shit was easy to let slide. I know that I'm not a slut. I've slept with two dudes in my life. And I didn't charge for either of them. Which is by definition what a whore is. But anyway, I'm getting off topic.

"Where was I goin— oh right. So the photos. The names weren't ideal but they weren't killing me. It was when people started commenting on my figure. Pointing things out about my hips or my boobs. Or the fact that I'm not tall. Or saying that my arms are too muscular. Or my nose is too small for my face or my lips are too big in comparison to my nose. Or the space between my hairline and my forehead is weird. Or my ass is too big for my legs. You literally can't make this shit up. People will point out anything.

"And again, I tried to let it slide. Not let it get to me. Ya know. Fuck them. They don't know me. But those words, they echo. Especially when you're in the mirror. Maybe after a shower and you're looking and you see it. The details.

"You see the details that other people see and it starts to fester and you obsess over wanting to fix the things that people have pointed out so that no one can ever point out a single flaw again and you can fit into this bracket of perfection that doesn't fucking exist because the media have fed you lies and edited photos and found girls that are so rare and high on the spectrum of flawless. And even those girls get edited so we all end up chasing this totally unrealistic goal and it will literally kill us but no one does a damn thing to stop it.

"So yes. I knew that I was letting my decisions be influenced by a toxic mind frame. But the need to meet the criteria outweighed health. It outweighed happiness because your brain tricks you into believing that reaching this unattainable goal will unlock happiness but it won't. It ruins everything and I'd never been more unhappy than when I was a size zero, head over the toilet bowl, losing a lunch that consisted of fucking leaves and tomatoes.

"And even though I know what I need to do differently and I have the resources and the motivation, I still feel that I'm going to be battling my own mind day in and day out but this time, I want to win and I know where the happiness is. It's not at size zero. It's not at deaths fucking door."

A round of applause echoed in the sharing lounge.

I'd almost forgotten that I was in a circle of other girls. Other girls that had been here with me. Learning to defeat their demons. Still learning.

Our team leader, Andrea, clapped, she cheered and hollered. So I smiled at her across the circle and nodded. It looked like she was about to burst into tears.

The speech was a far change from how I'd been when I first arrived here. At the Crossman's Healing and Treatment centre.

The facility was huge. It was made up of several different buildings on trimmed green land with gardens, swimming pools, stables and tennis courts.

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