Everchanging

Ugly Duckling

!!TW!! Fatphobia, Body Image Issues, Diet Culture, ED-related topics, inner dialogue regarding calories, and slight mention of bullying/Miyano

If Mitsuri was being honest, she doesn't remember the first time she was put on a diet. It wasn't obvious, it started with little things. Things like her mom watching her portions or switching things to lower calories. It started with little comments and even smaller digs, insults concealed as fake worry that a young Mitsuri didn't know the difference between.

It was subconscious, the way Mitsuri wondered what was so bad about her. Her sisters were so pretty, why wasn't she? Her mom was so skinny when she was Mitsuri's age, so why wasn't she? She had been eight the first time she wondered that, and it would only continue to follow her for as long as she lived.

If you grow up as the "ugly duckling", you pick up ways to "survive". In better words, to make people look at you, to make people like you. Be the funny friend, because there was no way you would be the pretty one. Be the smart sibling, because you weren't the skinny one. Be the sweetest person in the room, because that was the only way people were going to remember you.

It didn't matter how much her dad claimed Mitsuri was perfect, it didn't matter because everyone else said she wasn't. They didn't outright say horrible things, but Mitsuri could read in between the lines. She knew that there was something wrong with her when she had to shop in the adult section instead of the kid's. She knew there was something wrong with her when all of her friends and sisters were getting asked out while no one even looked in Mitsuri's direction.

Then she had to start giving up the things she loved, because if she didn't then she wouldn't be skinny and pretty, and if she wasn't skinny and pretty then no one would love her. Sweets and baking were abandoned for mile runs and cross-country. Reading books and watching rom-coms turned into watching mukbangs and staring at fast-food ads just to imagine the taste.

Mitsuri had been nine the first time she could remember celebrating with her mother while looking at the lower number on the scale. She would forever remember how proud her mom had been, and she would be riding on that high for a very long time.

And it was surreal, how different the world treated her when she was thin. More boys talked to her and older people were nicer to her. She started getting compliments like "you're so pretty," or "Where did you get that dress? It looks amazing on you," instead of "You look like you give amazing hugs". People stopped critiquing the way she dressed or how she did her makeup and began asking her for tips.

But, despite all of that, Mitsuri still felt like something was so very wrong with her. She looked in the mirror and instead of seeing the girl she was or the child her parent's made, she only saw the extra pounds she could afford to lose. She imagined what her face would look like if her jawline was sharper or she would run her fingers over the ridges of her ribs like they were a tally of her achievements.

She started staying at home more, refusing to go out with her friends because she didn't want anyone to see her eat. Eating felt shameful, like she was breaking a rule of some kind. So, she would lock herself in her room and turn on her mukbangs while she crunched on ice because ice was one of the few things she could stomach without guilt. Her father would give her dishes of amazing smelling food, Mitsuri's favorites because she knew her father was doing this on purpose. That he knew the disgusting monster that Mitsuri saw when she saw her reflection. And it hurt her, it hurt because she knew that her dad loved her. That she was his baby girl and how could Mitsuri be doing this to her dad's lovely daughter?

But she still would take the meal and close the door, she would lock it and set the bowl on her bedside table. She would eat something better, something "healthier", like plain rice crackers or boiled chicken while she smelled the food her father made her. She would imagine eating it, and she would imagine feeling full for the first time in a long time.