CLUMSY • Crystal Methyd x Gigi Goode (Crygi)

!TEN!

(TW// Detailed eating disorder, anorexia, bulimia, purging. if this is a trigger please don't read.)

GIGI GOODE WAS SOMEWHAT DIFFERENT. Well at least in her own eyes she was.

At such a young age Gigi had became incredibly career orientated, her family life was decent and she owes most of her career growth and aspirations to her beautiful mother.

Her career with fashion blossomed incredibly, there was no doubt that she had an eye for fashion, and with her looking like a model there truly wasn't an issue with the aspect of her career growing- her online platform only highlighting this.

Gigi has friends, majority of which worked with her. She liked to keep her Circle somewhat small- not really one for branching out to other people; Crystal was an exception.

She lived in a pretty apartment, with pretty decorations, pretty clothes and a pretty dog. Her life was pretty.

Of course nobodies life is that perfect, of course Gigi had something going on. She would call it her "little bundle of self hatred." 

Also known as her brain

Which brings us to an eating disorder.

It began when she was fourteen. her fashion magazines were her main sense of worth, where she wanted her career to go and what she wanted to do. Reading so many fashion magazines and also a fine selection of gossip magazines that she had stolen from her mother after she had finished reading them. She had begin to notice certain aspects of things that she hadn't noticed beforehand.

She didn't realise how many before and after photos of weight loss was shown in the magazines, until she started looking more into them.

The before photos were always photos that almost resembled her body, she never thought of herself of being overweight, she just always figured that she was in that mid section where she was just... flat. for the most part. The magazines said otherwise.

She skipped her first meal when she was fifteen. Deciding that if she wanted to be like the models and have a successful career she would have to go about it smartly, and in her eyes, this was the smartest answer.  She decided that saying thank you to her mom for her pizza and then waiting for everybody to leave so that she could push the food far enough down the trash so that it wouldn't be visible was the most reasonable way to do it.

Skipping one meal led to two, and skipping two meals led to multiple. It took only a few months before she ate at most four meals a week.

She had only lost 19 lbs. This wasn't enough. As each day passed she felt like her skin on her body and the small amount of fat that it maintained was an extra layer that she didn't need, it made her feel like she was being suffocated in her own body. She needed to lose more.

She began purging 6 months and four days after she started missing out on meals. She thought that if she ate one extra meal a week but then took it out straight after, that it wouldn't matter- she would be okay.

She wasn't okay.

The first thing Gigi did on her sixteenth birthday was shakily walk her frail frame into the bathroom at 6am, wearing only a pair of underwear as she prepared herself to step on the scales; she ignored the mirror.

She stood she waited, for twenty seconds maybe. Procrastinating the results by taking deep breaths, her thin fingers in closing around the sides of her hips, grabbing each side and trying to see if the tips of her fingers would meet in the center of her stomach as she awaited her results, they didn't.

She looked down, a shaky breath left her dry lips, murmuring a few self deprecating slurs at herself. She was 6 foot tall and 106lbs. She felt disgusted.

She thought that perhaps it was wrong, and her not being at the 95lbs goal that she was aiming for was wrong, how could it not possibly work? Gigi stood on and off the scales repeatedly for the next hour, spiralling on her 16th birthday.

Gigi came out as lesbian to her friends and family at seventeen. Everybody being accepting for the most part, her family, excluding her dad welcoming her with open arms. Gigi's Father was opposed to the idea of his perfect little daughter being gay. And quite frankly, Gigi didn't give a fuck.

Gigi found tumblr when she was 18 years
old. Tumblr heightened everything. All it was was countless images of thinspo, people's using it as a diary for calorie counting, fat-phobia and fat shaming. Tumblr ruined Gigi completely.

Gigi didn't realise she was sick until she was twenty years old. Whenever her doctor suggested the fact that she had anorexia to her, she had been pushing the reality and severity of what she had been doing for the past five years to the back of her brain, always calling it her "model growth."  In the back of her head she already knew, but when she was told it upfront, it was like a wash of reality for her.

Then she started to realise more things.

She began to realise that models don't have bruised spines from doing at least 100 sit ups every night or have to tie their hair up a certain way from it falling out.

She began to realise that models didn't have to get the insides of their teeth professionally cleansed from the acid from their vomit staining their teeth.

She realised that models didn't flinch in disgust every time they saw their own body in the mirror.

Gigi realised that models didn't have to avoid sex at all costs so nobody would have to see her body the way she saw it.

At age twenty-one Gigi chose recovery.

It was a slow and painful process, it still is. But she knew her Mom was behind her, cheering her the whole way through her recovery journey. She knew it was worth the disgusting glasses of milk she had to drink for the calcium it gave her bones.

Gigi knows recovery is worth it because whenever she goes out to dinner with her friends she can actually eat what she orders now, or eat as much as she can manage to.

Recovery was worth it because her life is worth it.

Gigi Goode wouldn't describe herself as ordinary because she was different. As is everybody, Gigi was a strong survivor who also was a female gay owner of her own clothing business. She was proud of herself for it.