I grew up near South Beach. I pinched my body fat when no one was looking at me. I envied the girls who ate without fear. I envied the girls who wore a size 0. My insatiable appetite embarrassed me. Every day, I battled with food, my body, my wardrobe and the mirror. No matter how good I looked, I only saw my fat.
I tried several tactics to control my eating. I avoided food, implemented portion control, followed fad diets and eliminated sugar. I over exercised, threw up, abstained from eating and used prescription drugs. When those methods failed, I invented the Cocaine Diet.
The diet was a combination of abstainance from food, cigarettes, cocaine and male attention. My body transformed and I looked like Lindsey Lohan. 
People as distorted as me were jealous of my skinny appearance and fake boobs. Inside, I still felt disgusting. I might fool others, but I could never escape my inner truth.
When the pain was great enough, I admitted I was powerless and a door to freedom appeared. It would be years before I realized a woman's essence, not her weight, is what matters.
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