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AJ

I went to a public middle school in 7th grade, which was a major switch from the hippie school I had been attending since preschool.

I wasn't used to the social pressure and I was ignorant on the importance of being beautiful. I had no idea how things worked at this new place.

I wasn't sexy, stylish, thin, rich or anything spectacular.

I was a short, baby-chubby girl with plain blonde hair; nothing special. Because of this, no one paid attention to me.

What was the point? He was in my homeroom; the dream date, handsome, Sweet-Valley High boy.

He had the most herbal essence blondish brown hair, which fell across his tan face and complimented his bright green eyes.

He was perfect in my eyes. I watched him from afar.

I silently made sure that I was available to him. I made sure my locker was next to his when we picked them, I befriended the people I saw him laughing with in the hall.

None of this seemed to be working, he never looked my way. I was overjoyed when we got placed as partners for a science project. He had to talk to me now. From the moment I went to his house to finish our experiment, we were the best of friends.

Our friendship was like no other I had ever experienced. We clicked from the moment we spoke to each other. We were always laughing, it was too hard to be serious when we were together. He loved to play outside as much as I did.

We would sit on his roof and look at the sky, or when it snowed jump off the roof onto snowy pillows we formed to catch us. Every day was surreal. I lived at his house, I lived for his company.

He was my best friend in the entire world. After a couple months of this dream, I had developed a huge crush on him; my very first earth shattering hormonal obsession.

But then things got weird. He would subtly bring up weight, or point out people he thought were cute and always make a point of noting how skinny they were.

I never worried about weight, I never thought there was anything fat about me. When I looked at other girls, I just thought that I was average. As the days went on he got less subtle and I became more anxious.

He kept telling me how guys like their girlfriends to be skinny, and have thin legs. I would just nod and laugh it off. I do not have skinny legs, and I never will. I have Italian curvy hips, and no matter how thin I have gotten, my legs are always there just the same.

It became clear to me one day when we were sitting on his tan couches in his basement, watching a cartoon on Nickelodeon. He stood up from his place next to me and wrapped his one arm across his waist and his other arm around his back. He spun around to show me how his fingers touched.

He looked at me, his eyes mischievously flashing and said, "Liia, do you want to know how you know if you are skinny? If you can do this, and have your hands touch, you are skinny." I tried and I couldn't. I kept at it from all different angles to no avail.

AJ's eyes confirmed that he knew I couldn't touch them, no matter how much I sucked in or how hard I wanted to. There was dead silence after that. Thus began the downfall of our friendship. I was in denial.

He never told me, straight out, that he thought I was fat and this kept me wondering. From childhood I knew that calling a girl fat was a horrible thing to do, I knew that beautiful women were thin, and I knew that if you wanted to hurt anyones feelings you could just insult their figure.

It made no logical sense to me. How could my best friend think I was fat? Plus, how could he tell me I was fat?

I let the event torture me for days until I decided I had to talk to him about it, ask him straight tout. We were in his kitchen, this time.

We were sitting with our math homework out in front of us making pointless conversation. I glanced up at him, taking the courage to ask the question.

"AJ? Do you think I'm...well..fat?" AJ's intense, serious stare scared me. "Yes, I mean, you could definitely use to lose a few pounds. No offense." I left his house with a whole new outlook on myself.

From that day on I distanced myself from him. I stopped going to his house every day, and I would leave classes early to avoid talking to him. I felt hurt like I never had before; I felt betrayed.

From that day on whenever I looked in the mirror I saw fat. I wasn't skinny, I never had been, and until I was skinny I would be ugly because that's what AJ thought.

His opinion meant the world to me, and if he thought I was ugly because I couldn't wrap my arms around my waist than I must be.

I hated him. He was the beginning of a time in my life when I would look at an apple and see too many calories.

My parents would invite me to dinner and I would tell them I had already ate, that I wasn't feeling well, and then lock myself in my room to avoid the smell.

I wrote in red lipstick on my mirror reminders of my obesity to keep myself from wanting food. The only thing on my mind was weight.

I stopped all contact with him after a month or so. I wouldn't even look at him. My goal became to lose the weight I could, until I could wrap my arms around my waist.

To prove to him that I could do it and he was wrong. I was searching for revenge in my own starving, self-abusing way.

Even though AJ wasn't actively participating in my life by his time, he was still haunting my thoughts. I went to a wedding dinner where the catered food was delicious and beautiful. Everyone ate so much.

We were sitting, full and content, when my mom asked me from across the table, "How is AJ doing? I haven't heard from him in awhile."

I thought about AJ, and I thought about how gross my stomach felt with all the food that would keep me away from the goal, would keep me away from the teen-queen model-skinny best-friend-material girl I wanted to be.

I excused myself, and headed to the bathroom; the big, glossy, flowery, wedding bathroom. I stepped inside and locked the door.

I went over to the toilet, shoved my finger down my throat and for the first time ever, threw up. To tell the truth, I didn't feel any better afterwards. I only felt worse about myself. I felt dirty.

I'm now on a rode to recovery. Everything AJ said still sticks with me to this day. It took me two years to forgive him, and even now 3 years later when we stop to talk there is tension.

I struggle with the anorexia everyday, even if it's just a quick thought when having ice cream with my girlfriends.

He broke me quickly, and completely and it took everything I had to come back.

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