I developed a fear of taking up space in my own body.

I wish I could pinpoint the day, the moment that this fear took over my life.

Maybe it was after another beating from my dad for asking why?

Maybe it was after another meal where I didn’t like the food but was forced to eat it?

Maybe it was after my dad’s expected death and the silence that followed?

Maybe it was after another day at school of fighting the bullies who called me a fat black cow?

Maybe it was after those suggestions from my family to stop eating chips and bread and to eat something better?

Maybe it was after my ‘so-called’ school friends laughed and teased me because when I jumped my boobs jumped too?

Maybe it was after when I was still a girl I had a woman’s body that bled monthly?

Maybe it was after I walked down a street and a strange man leered at my body as something to have?

Maybe it was after I’d devoured my teen magazines and saw only white skinny girls getting the guys?

Maybe it was after we went roller skating and I couldn’t roller skate but spent time on my butt?

Maybe it was after that trip to Paris and the French guy I liked didn’t even look at me?

Maybe it was after I’d convinced myself that being smaller and whiter inside would help me to be smaller and whiter outside?