Echoes Of The Mind

Does having a perfect body make you happier?

Ella's Point of view

Okay, one more kilometer and you're done. Keep going. Don't stop. You can do it.

Yes, but at what cost?

This voice vaguely resembled mine, but it was sadder, almost lachrymose. This question uttered itself in a haunting whisper in my mind, echoing in the abyss of insecurities and sadness in my head.

My knees almost buckled, breaking me out of this reverie. I have been running for more than an hour now. I was knackered. My lungs were contracting and expanding urgently to compensate for my short breath, taking in oxygen at a rapid rate. I was heaving.

But this is the price that you must pay. It's all your fault. I scolded myself.

I had eaten too much yesterday. This showed through my tight t-shirt at the belly area. It was stretched out more than usual. Maybe, it was not. Maybe, it was just my insecurities playing dirty tricks on me, wanting to drown me back into the abyss in the back of my mind at every single opportunity. After all, I just ate one more scoop of rice last night.

But I felt as if I did something illegal. Something I should not have done. Something I had to repent for. Therefore, I was out here, in the park, willing my legs to continue running for a longer time, ignoring my limits.

However, the truth is that this was not unlike my daily morning routine: drag my tired body out of bed at 4 o'clock in the morning, look in the mirror to check whether my flat stomach had miraculously vanished overnight, brush my teeth, eat a bowl of oatmeal accompanied by low-fat skimmed milk, look in the mirror again, sigh in despair, put on my sports shoes for an hour of jogging, return home to shower, look in the mirror once more, get ready for work and starve throughout the day. This was my quotidian agony. I surrendered to my self-doubts every single day. They were my sole friends. They never left me. And the truth is that I didn't even try to escape from them. After all, I didn't want to be called the cruel labels that society imprints on someone who isn't cellulose-free.

But at what cost? This haunting whisper greeted me again.

The ground seemed to sway beneath my feet. My legs started trembling. My heart was beating erratically. My body seemed to weigh a ton, refusing any further physical torture I was inflicting on myself, demanding a much-needed rest. I managed to pull my drained body on a nearby wooden bench underneath a large tree. The shade from its deep green canopy was comforting. I took deep breaths and finally relaxed my cramped muscles. Suddenly, I perked up my ears as I heard a familiar energetic and lively melody that seemed to originate some distance away. Although, judging from its increasing loudness, the source was apparently getting closer. It was an ice-cream truck. My spirits lifted but only for a short while.

"No!" I berated myself. "Too many calories! I cannot eat something so sweet! It is too unhealthy." These automatic thoughts always occurred to me, causing the enthusiasm I felt upon coming across a patisserie shop or fast food stall to ebb away into nostalgia and a yearning to escape from the tethers of these restrictions.

A butterfly unexpectedly flying just inches away from my eyes broke my trance. I blinked, trying to readjust to reality. In tow, there was a little girl, clad in a yellow flowery dress, chasing the insect. She could not be older than 8 years old. She was merrily jumping around and laughing excitedly as she attempted to catch the floating whirl of color. The joy she exuded was so contagious that I could not help but smile at her cuteness. Abandoning the teasing insect, she switched her attention to the blossom of flowers adorning the park. She knelt down on the grassy floor, carefully picking a myriad of blooms – each of a different color – and decorated her fiery red wig that was perched on her head. Then, she twirled around and waved her arms like a ballet dancer, boasting her new flower crown to her mother who was also sitting on a nearby bench, keeping an eye on her daughter constantly. Her mother clapped her hands in appraisal and smiled warmly at her daughter's antics.

The wig almost slipped down to reveal few thin wisps of hair when the girl's hands shot out to nonchalantly readjust it, her smile never wavering even once. The reflection from the sun hinted intravenous tubes along the length of her left arm.

I felt conflicted. How could a little girl still be so cheerful despite her suffering? Why was she the only one in this park to appreciate nature and all its beauty? How could she find happiness in such trivial things like chasing a butterfly or picking flowers?

The ice-cream truck parked just a meter away from the girl. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she urgently dragged her mother and queued up to buy the savory, waiting impatiently. I grinned and queued up too. Once the girl got a cup full of the vanilla ice cream, she turned and smiled at me. I smiled warmly back.

Just a few moments later, as I tasted the sweet bliss of the chocolate goodness, a flower bloomed inside of me. It was happiness - a flower that had withered over time as a result of my obsession over having a "perfect" body.

I was so caught up trying to be free of any prejudice of society that I forgot to be happy all my life. I became a robot that strived to survive but forgot to live, focusing so much on my physical appearance that I overlooked my mental health. That was the cost.

But no more. It's time to be happy now.

That voice was back. But it was no longer haunting. It carried hope - hope to be happy.

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Hello my lovely fellows!

If you liked this short story, then please don't hesitate to leave a comment and a vote!

It would mean a hella lot to me! And I appreciate all sorts of feedback! Thanks again and have a great day/night😊 Stay tuned for more!

And one thing, be happy, no matter what others say. No one has a say in determining whether you should be satisfied with yourself or not.

As my mother has always said,  love yourself first since no one else will do it for you.

(I do love you though)

If people judge ya, slam a book on their face and tell them to educate themselves because no one can touch you on my watch!