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THE SKINNY GIRL

Janet Gurtler

Dear Teen Me,

It’s kind of a rush isn’t it—how thin you’ve become? It started with that boy you’d been crushing on. Your best friend asked him what he thought of you, and in response he reversed the words from the punk rock song by the Monks you all loved so much: Instead of “Nice legs. Shame about her face,” he sang, “Nice face. Shame about her legs.”

Wow! That comment hurt so much you couldn’t breathe for a minute, and a shamed blush stained your cheeks. You hated being the chubby one in a family full of thin kids, and suspected that your size made you inadequate in some way. Teasing sucked, but this was different. This was from a boy you liked. And it was devastating to your already fragile ego. So a diet followed and the weight dropped off.

And for the first time now you’re actually skinny. What a trip! You feel powerful, and really in control. I can see why it’s hard to say no to the attention—the positive attention—that the weight loss gets you. You start hanging out with the popular girls again, as if thinness makes you worthy, but inside you feel empty. Physically and emotionally. They love how skinny you’ve become, though, all those thin girls. When one of them brags about fitting into a pair of your jeans you feel like you’ve made it. Like your thinness is something to be desired.

Unfortunately, taking it off isn’t the hard part. Starving yourself is sustainable for a while, but it’s hard to keep up. You’re basing your worth on how many calories you consume. And so now, when you do eat, it’s pure guilt. Which leads to binges, and more guilt. And then you’re starving yourself again. You’re caught up in a vicious cycle.

But then another skinny girl at school shares a secret with you: throwing up. You try it, but you’re not very good at it. That makes you feel like even more of a failure, and the weight piles back on again, but I’m so happy now that you couldn’t make yourself do it. It’s a dangerous, dangerous way to live, and some people who do it wind up so malnourished that they can even die. But take a look at yourself right now. You’ve got a lot more life in you, and if you look hard enough, you’re going to find a person with strength and real tenacity.

Being skinny seems like a path to happiness, but it’s not. Trust me. Hang in there. There’s not one defining moment when it all changes, but gradually you’ll come to believe that you’re kind of okay. You’re actually going to kind of rock at middle age (if you do say so yourself). It’s a great time for you (and it’s not as far off as you might think). Remember how you always felt like an old woman lived inside you? Well, you’ll grow into your skin, just like you predicted. You’ll worry about your weight on and off your whole life, but it won’t define you. Not like it does now. In fact, you’ll have a pretty good time. You’ll have friends who value you for more than your size, and you’ll accomplish things that have nothing to do with how you look.

Someday you’re even going to meet a boy who thinks you’re beautiful—even with no makeup and with some extra weight. You’ll marry him. He’s going to love you no matter how you look. Because of who you are.

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Image Janet Gurtler is the author of contemporary YA novels, I’m Not Her (2011), If I Tell (2011), and Who I Kissed (forthcoming). Although she is chronologically (way) older, in many ways Janet will always be a sixteen-year-old girl. Visit her at JanetGurtler.com.