Emma's ( orthorexia) Thanks giving

Plane ride

It's the first day of break and my father and I are flying first class to Paris France, it's definitely cliche and for sure will be somewhat boring . But the aller intensive they have here is great. Besides, I get to see Elizabeth the only Arab dancer at this school and the most talented. We became close when I was here two years ago and had stayed close since.

With her, I feel like how Regina feels with me, I'm good but not good enough. I have a great tutn out, but her's is better. My arch is phenomenal, but Elizabeth's is a perfect rainbow. I can do seven pirouettes, but she can do ten. It's exhausting being second best.

As I sit in my reclining chair, I adjust my headphones before closing my eyes into the lemon face mask I'm wearing. I need to sleep, I have class two hours after we land, and  the flight to Paris is long.

I play a bit of Chappelle Roan in my headphones but only her hits. She  is a good singe but I don't enjoy every song she puts out. Plus, her politics are questionable.As I'm resting, a flight attendant walks up to my cubby, offering me food. I look at the simple meal of eggs toast, jam, and a coke. I take the food but leave the coke.

" Thanks." I say without looking at the attendant.

I didn't take the coke because my orthorexia won't let me, I can't drink something that can't even be called food and is more chemical than water. However, the eggs are okay, a good protein, and a carb source, and the bread is sourdough. So I can enjoy some of this breakfast. However, the Jam is a no-go. I prefer Ella's homemade jam over any other kind.

I take off my face mask and begin eating. I'm sending my dad two cubbies back a picture so he knows I'm eating something.

We still have another three hours in the flight, but I already slept too much to fall back asleep. Instead, I watch videos of Elizabeth dancing. She is incredibly talented, very thin, decently tall, and her technique is something I can only dream of.

I wish Regina had come to France with me. Shed loves this ballet intensive, but instead, she went to Madrid with her family. I hope she's still dancing. Our instructors will kill her if she comes back rusty or tired.

Hopefully, they won't kill me. Hopefully, I don't bring bed bugs back home. Hopefully, all the smoke in the air doesn't give me cancer. What's the point of eating healthy if I did some other way?

I talked to Care yesterday, and she's going to see her extended family for Thanksgiving. That's nice for her even though she hates them. For me, "Thanksgiving" is just me and dad. He works most of the time, I dance most of the time, and we only really see each other three or four times the whole trip. I don't mind it, though. I love dancing, androgyny and I really it means he can't force me to eat calorie dense, cream filled, fake fruit flavored gelato.

A win-win