Today is day 2 of NEDA Week. For those who do not know what this refers to, it is National Eating Disorders Awareness week. This is such an important week because eating disorders are so stigmatized in our society. This week is not only for the suffering, recovery, family members, friends, or treatment communities, it is also for our kids and their kids... Kids growing up with more and more cruelty and hostility, more demands to be thin, prettier, fit in. There are far more avenues these days for self esteem to be further trampled. There's social networking sites, pages dedicated to bullying others and discussing imperfections in others' bodies. There are now You Tube videos titled "Do you think I'm pretty?" Basing body image on societal ideals is only one small part of an eating disorder, but it's seemingly out of control these days. So the more we talk about it, raise awareness, let girls (and boys) know that they are not alone, the closer we will be to eliminating eating disorders. My small part today is to share a poem... a poem about the struggle of seeing clearly... seeing the physical self in truth, and not what the brain may tell one s/he looks like.... I have written numerous poems on this topic, but only have one or two that I have been able to locate. Hopefully, I can post a little all week.
Mirror mirror on the wall
Why am I the ugliest of them all?
They say I'm pretty, I still don't see..
Mirror, mirror why do you lie to me?
It's been a while now, thought we were becoming friends
Yet I'm sinking deeper and deeper, constantly checking you mirror, wishing this would end
They say I'm disappearing, getting way too thin
Yet I consult you mirror, you lie to me again.
Again and again, we come face to face, it isn't getting any clearer, I'm full of self hate
Mirror mirror full of lies
I now come to you and cry
Can't you show me something different or has it been me the whole time? Was it you mirror, or my own self that really lied?
I must turn away now. I need to look within.
I'm becoming stronger mirror, this dance can finally end.
The checking, the disgust, the starving... to live within my own skin.
It's no longer necessary, I'm finally my own friend.
Carla McClellan 2012 ©
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