Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
No. That answer was on the tip of my tongue.
I knew that I hadn’t wanted to go back to therapy. Even seeing the fear in Lark’s eyes, I hadn’t wanted to consider it. Until I’d ended up here, I hadn’t even stopped to look at it. It had taken a night in solitude to make me see the reality of what had been happening.
I didn’t think that I looked too skinny. In fact, I still felt like there were places that I needed improvement. But wasn’t that normal? Didn’t society tell us to keep working on our body? That we could always be healthier? Hadn’t people complimented me on my newer, smaller figure? Wasn’t that what everyone said they wanted? I’d been given all of these opportunities because my body was smaller.
It was a total mind-set change to realize… maybe my body size didn’t even matter. It certainly didn’t mean that I was healthier. I’d seen girls who were waif thin, who were deathly ill, that society still complimented.
I hated the whole thing. Everything that told me that being smaller, taking up less space, made me more, better, worthy. I was Katherine Van Pelt. My personality took up the entire room. And somehow, my body had to take up no space?
Why was that what brought value to my life? Why did others make it the highest priority? And… was there ever going to be a way to stop it?
“I hate feeling like this,” I said softly to Lark. “I don’t know what to do. People praise me for looking like this.”
“And since when does Katherine Van Pelt care what other people think?”
“Always,” I whispered.
Lark sank against the bed. “Listen, I’ve known you for a long time. I know that this socialite business hangs on your appearance. You’ve always been beautiful and thin, and you think that matters, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is what you do with it. Like with the work you’re doing at the hospital for the children. For Jem. That’s what matters more than any body image out there.”
“Jem,” I whispered. “She’s such a ray of sunshine even though she’s sick.”
“Society would say she’s not the standard of beauty. But the girl didn’t even wear a wig! She wants everyone to see her bald head or her head scarf because that is beautiful to her. We cannot define our worth based on what is dictated to us by the media.”
“I know. I know.” I shook my head. “I know that intuitively. But at the same time…”
“At the same time, society has decided what beauty is. And women have to fit into that mold.” I nodded at her words. Lark shrugged. “Fuck it.”
I laughed. “What?”
“Just fuck it, Katherine. You don’t have to live up to anyone’s standards but your own. And I know it’s not that easy to dismiss everything we’ve learned. I know there’s a long road ahead of you. But I’ve been doing research on anti-diet culture, and I bet it would really help to find a therapist with that mind-set. Your body size doesn’t make you any happier. If anything, the skinnier you get, the more miserable you are.”
I bit my lip. She was right. I’d lost weight when I was unhappy. And then I’d kept losing it because it seemed to make more things right.
“What even is anti-diet culture?” I asked warily.
“It’s the belief that diets don’t actually work. Most people lose the weight and then gain it right back, plus some. And that it’s damaging to have an unhealthy relationship with food, to offer good or bad qualities to food, to count calories or macros, to weigh yourself, to limit what kinds of food you can eat, to be heavily restrictive, even to take before and after pictures, as that focuses on the skinnier body being the better body. It’s just learning to live and love yourself again without qualification.”
“That sounds… impossible.”
Lark shrugged. “It feels like that at first. But I’ve tried to give up all my preconceived notions about it. I eat a burger when I want it. I eat a salad when I want it. I thank them both for nourishing my body. At the end of the day, I want to be happy and healthy and not constantly worrying about what I put in my body.”
“Well, I guess I could try it.”
“Along with therapy,” Lark said quickly.
“Yes. I mean… it took over a year last time in therapy for me to be human again. I can’t imagine not looking at food that way. But… I’ll talk to someone about it.”
“Good. That’s the first step.”
Lark opened her mouth to say something else, but then a knock at the door stalled her. A second later, the door opened and revealed, to my shock, my mother.
“Hello, Katherine.” She tipped her head at Lark. “Lark.”