Chubby girls don’t get daddies

Lacy Bentley, Staff writer [email protected]

Photo credit: Laura Fox

I am seven years old. Mommy said Daddy left because she got fat. I’m going to get skinny and beautiful so Daddy will come back.

My friends eat Twinkies and Ding Dongs in their lunches every day. They are going to get fat and their Daddy’s are going to leave them. Not me.

I only eat half of everything on my lunch tray. I’m so good and so happy. He’s coming soon, I just know it. I’ll send him a picture of how skinny I am so he can love me.

My friend is chubby. Her daddy hugs her at her birthday party and cuts her birthday cake. Is he making her fat so he can leave? I don’t understand.

Chubby girls don’t get daddies. They can’t be loved, but she gets a mommy and a daddy and a birthday party.

I want to go home where no one will notice me cry and no dumb mommy will ask me what’s wrong. I hate mommies. I didn’t know chubby girls could have nice mommies and daddies. I don’t know what to do.

Today I ate four ding-dongs. My stomach hurts like I could throw up, but the ding-dongs will make me chubby so I can have a daddy and a mommy.

I like trying to get fat better than trying to get skinny. I like treats and I like chicken and rice with gravy.

It’s been a lifetime and I will never be thin enough for him to come back. She will never love me. Whatever.

I’m getting tired of hearing how thin I am. The next person who calls me “bean pole” just might get one to the face. Besides, eating makes me feel and if they had my pain, they’d quit feeling too. Just leave me alone.

I think I’m going to have to quit track. I can’t keep up. I do okay on days I can buy a sandwich for lunch. It really helps, but my brother needs some stuff for school, and I need to buy my yearbook.

I do okay on a Sunkist and Score bar. I want him to be able to have what he needs for school. Why does everything hurt so much all the time?

I hate the ER. Mom’s new toy had to carry me in this time, my legs gave out. I guess this is it for track.

My stomach is being ripped apart from the inside. I tried to tell them I was going to pass out. Idiot nurse told me to stop being dramatic, so I puked some vile green shit all over her white shoes before I fell out of the wheel chair. Yeah, I’m faking it. Idiot.

Brian asked me to marry him. I am so happy! I love being part of a family. Every time I walk in the door Brian’s mom is cooking. I can’t wait to be part of this forever.

She is amazing and says brides should be “plump.” I’m not so sure about that, but they love me and I don’t care about anything else. It is safe to eat here.

I’m getting married next week. What am I doing? He’s not Brian. His mom isn’t Joyce. Let’s just get this over with. I can’t breathe anymore. I stopped breathing a long time ago.

The baby is 15 months old and I finally dropped all the weight. No baby wants a fat mama. Don’t worry kid, I’ve got this.

Something is wrong. I can’t stand up without blacking out. Last night I fell trying to use the bathroom and woke up collapsed over the tub.

I think I broke a couple of ribs. I’m scared. In group we are talking about self-destructive behaviors and Chris brought up eating disorders.

I read the literature she gave us. Does she seriously think I’m anorexic? I don’t feel anorexic and if I was I would definitely know. I’m not stupid, Chris.

I went to AA tonight with a woman I met last week. There are no meetings for people like us, so we find what we can. She goes to meetings everyday.

This is my first one and I am terrified. A kind and toothless old guy walks out from behind the counter, hands me a Blue Book and tells me it’s going to get better. I don’t know why, but I believe him.

He knows something and I want to know it too. I go in and sit down with my new friends.

“Hi, I’m Lacy and I’m anorexic. Please don’t kick me out. I don’t know where else to go.” And the leader smiles at me. “Welcome, dear. Stay as long as you want. We are a family here.”

And we are. I’ll take another 24.