Skinny Love

2:12 PM

There was a pamphlet on my bed this morning called How To Love Yourself, and I groaned because I knew my mom put it there, but I read it anyway because at least she was finally trying. Step one was stop all criticism, and I almost stopped reading there because I lived in a house filled with critical hypocrites. The next steps were just as lame — be gentle, kind, and patient, be kind to your mind, praise yourself, be loving to your negatives. My door was cracked open and I saw my mom peering through it while I was reading, but pretended not to notice. When she was gone, I threw the paper away — shoved it to the bottom of the trash can so nobody would notice it. I knew what she'd say: "If you don't love yourself, then you'll never be able to love anybody else." Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I shouldn't be in love with somebody. Ever.

I saw the girl from Dr. Edwards' office while I was on my way there. She looked irritated, and angry, and a little bit sad — the way I usually looked before my session started. She was cold, too, and I didn't realize I put my jacket over her shoulders until after it happened and she was staring at me, just like she normally did. I unexpectedly smiled at her, and she grinned back at me as if she had just discovered something amazing. There was a small gap in between her two front teeth, and the freckles on her nose were hardly noticeable, and her waist was a little too thin. She wasn't classically beautiful.

I told myself she wasn't beautiful at all. I knew I was lying.