Harry has everything he wanted for now; his own yoga studio in London and hardly any contact with his family. Yes, he's a bit lonely, but that's okay.
It's better than having a new participant who disrupts the class with his swearing and brings down...
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As Harry shoves the last piece of the chocolate bar into his mouth, he looks in disgust at the many empty wrappers in front of him. A whole bag of waffles, ten chocolate bars, two bags of jelly bears and a banana to at least ease the bad conscience that is now hanging over him. Harry hates it. He knows how unhealthy it is, as well as how abnormal his behaviour is. And how much he has to jog again to get all those calories down. He'll spend the rest of his evening doing enough sit ups to work directly against it. And with every exercise he does, he'll hate himself a little bit more for what he's doing to his body. What he has been doing to himself for 4 years. Secretly of course. When he lived with his family and saw his friends regularly, it was harder to hide than it is now in London where he lives alone in his flat and has no social contacts. Except when he gives his various yoga classes and he stands there as a seemingly healthy teacher in front of the participants. If they only knew what Harry all eats in stressful situations...
Nobody suspects that he is a lonely man who turns into a food-inhaling monster when he thinks about things he shouldn't have. Harry knows that this is a problem as it serves to reduce stress like for example smoking does for others. Except he's so damn embarrassed that he doesn't feel like himself in those moments when he's shoving food after food inside himself. And although he feels stuffed afterwards, it still doesn't fill the hole in him that keeps opening up more year after year. The more Harry tries to ignore it, the more it breaks up like a maw inside him.
But there is one thing Harry loves about himself. What he's proud of. He doesn't suppress his feminine side anymore here in London where everyone does what they want and nothing seems too crazy. His curly hair falls almost to his shoulders, he paints his fingernails in whatever colour he feels like and his yoga pants are from the women's department, like his favourite pale lilac one. Yes, he has to admit that he is still often afraid of strange looks, but despite everything he lets this part of himself run free. And that's at least something that doesn't trigger an attack like it did when he was still living with his family.
Harry knows he needs help but he's too ashamed of it, afraid that maybe he doesn't suffer from mental problems that lead to his stuffing with food but is just gluttonous and a psychologist will laugh at him if he introduces himself there. Just as he would then have to acknowledge the inner presence of this little monster inside himself. Harry generally has a problem with being embarrassed and makes a point of making his body look as perfect as possible when his innermost being is already such a mess. Like his social environment.
He hardly has any contact with his family outside of birthdays and Christmas. And that's only through phone calls. No one really cares about meeting up after their fall out and the calls are only made out of decency and quite coolly.
Harry has always been the black sheep of the family. Or rather the colourful one. Preferring to wear his sister's clothes even as a boy, loved trying out her nail polish and makeup products, envied the girls' skirts of their school uniforms, and was generally jealous of every boy or man he saw anywhere who was allowed to wear his hair longer. Harry didn't hate his male body. He's comfortable in it, that's not it. But he also loves all things feminine and feels left out of a world he would love to be a part of just because people label it as feminine or masculine and it's seen as abnormal when the roles are reversed.
