crayola sunsets

potato chips.

[ spoken word poem ]

when i was fifteen, my mom told me to put back a bag of potato chips that "neither me nor my thighs needed". the only reason that i had picked up the second bag of potato chips was because there was a Buy Two for $5 sale at the grocery store, and frugality was a skill taught to me from a young age. after she made that comment i tried not to cry as she laughed at the jigglying of my small thighs while i tried to glide across the store's linoleum flooring. prior to that moment, i had only barely noticed the smaller details about the flabby parts of my upper legs, such as stretch marks and scars. i complained about the way that my legs seemed to expand when i sat down in a chair, and how it wasn't fair of me to make self deprecating comments when other girls had experienced shameful remarks about their worse for wear bodies. it was hardly my place to complain about the mass of my thighs when other girls had struggled more than me.

when i was fourteen i decided that i no longer liked greasy lay's potato chips, and that the crisp, harsh crunch of the cracker underneath my teeth was the equivalent of hearing a bone break. every waking moment of my life was spent comparing myself to instagram models and fitness gurus and rationalizing my laziness by saying "i'll do it tomorrow" when i damn well knew id rather be in my bed than in the gym. although my figure was pretty slim, i shouldnt have much to worry about because overall being toned and thin was what it meant to be beautiful, right? i loved hamburgers and naps more than i had ever liked dressing-less salad and workout time, which i thought was a bad thing. how can someone love themselves if the only jeans that fit are the ones that perfectly hug their ass but leave a huge air bubble at the waist?

when i was thirteen i told myself that i was ugly and stupid; it hurt when it felt that people only told you that you weren't just so they wouldn't have to deal with the "depressed barely teen freak" who hid in her bedsheets. i hated being short, and i hated being thin until my body separated ass from torso. in my mind i had this distorted image of what i wasn't but still had the potential to be. i saw a bloated belly, but every time i had the urge to purge i couldnt stomach the fact that i would be throwing up the delicious meal that i had just consumed. when i was thirteen i starved myself for two days until i remembered the happy daze a hot slice of pizza could put me through.

when i was fifteen and a half i had the epiphany that i don't need anyone else's love but my own. just like that i had called a cease-fire in my own mind, and as i started to unwind the knot of things that i hated about myself i discovered that without these things there would be no me. i ate more potato chips than i could count, and the amount piled on and on and on, but i didnt care. at the end of the day i still brushed my hair, and did my homework, and loved my family and believed that everyone should be happy. the word everyone refers to everybody i know, including me. corinthians 6:19 says that my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, but God knows that i know no spirit holier than mine.