notes: quick vent fic while i work on other stuff sorry, but i am trying to work on some stuff... wink wink (ha).
warnings: heavily revolved around restrictive eating disorders, alludes to SA, but doesn't go into detail, natasha not being very understanding (at first), starts in the middle of a fight bc i didn't know how else to begin the story lol, semi-proofread.
mama!nat x daughter reader
. . .
"you know, i would've been grateful to have so much food around me when i was younger." natasha scoffed.
"i just wish you would understand, or at least try to!" you cried out, tears streaming steadily down your face. "it's not about food, mom. i-i don't even know what it's about, but trust me when i say that if i could choose to live without this disorder i would."
you felt pathetic as you wiped your tears off your face. you'd been arguing with your mother for a good thirty minutes now, something that almost never happened before your issue became known.
"why can't you just eat the food? tell me, why can't you? why, y/n? it's food-"
"i know it's food!"
"then eat it!" natasha screamed back at you. "i get it, you need to feel in control of something. but why can't you just control something else-"
"i didn't choose to have an eating disorder. and it's not about control, not anymore. i told you, i don't know what it's about." you sighed, heart breaking with each response you gave your mother.
natasha rolled her eyes. "your life has been so easy, i made sure of that. you never once had to deal with any of the shit i did, so why are you doing this to me? how do you think i feel?"
you could help but laugh at your mother.
"how do i think you feel? how do you think i feel, mom? you're not the one living with this, i am." you wiped your eyes once more, ignoring the sting that had been caused from the repeated action.
"you preach so publicly about mental health and how important it is. people adore you for it. so why won't you listen to your own child?"
your mother shook her head, "you should be grateful."
"i am grateful! i'm so grateful for everything you've done for me, so much so that it kills me to know that i can't just stop this. i feel so guilty for it and when you say these... awful things to me it makes me feel so stupid and worse than i already do." you sobbed, pushing yourself further away from your mother until your back hit the headboard of your bed.
"i wish i could think of it as just food. i wish i could eat without feeling so guilty i have to force myself to throw up. i wish that i didn't feel like the only way i'm ever truly good is if i'm empty. i wish i could tell you what happened, but i feel like everything i say and do disappoints you."
natasha took another look at you, one that really stuck with her. she didn't recognize you anymore, you weren't the daughter she'd raised since the tender age of five. you weren't the daughter she knew just a couple of months ago. it truly wasn't until you passed out at school and ended up in the hospital with your diagnosis when everything changed. she didn't know you anymore and it tore her apart.
the more she studied you, the more she noticed how beat down and exhausted you appeared. everything about you was dull and worn out to the point she wasn't sure how much of you was left.
"i'm sorry," natasha finally let out. "i don't understand. i don't think i ever will understand." you went to interrupt her, but she was quicker than you.
