Perfection is interpreted in many ways. I guess that’s the beauty of it. Everyone has a different perspective of what it means and what it should be. As a dancer you always have to be perfect. Your toes need to be pointed and your legs need to be straight. All your movements must flow and be in rhythm with the music. Your routine needs to be perfect, your technique needs to be perfect… You need to be perfect. When I dance, I feel different. I feel strong, confident, free… like when the cold winter winds change to the summer. However, just like the winter winds, the pressure builds. The pressure of failing. The pressure of just not being good enough. Dance has always been a big part of my life. Without it, I’d be lost; I wouldn’t be me anymore. …show more content…
I wasn’t obsessed with losing weight, I just liked it. You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be happy if you lost a few pounds? If that’s the case then I guess that every teenage girl on the planet is anorexic. It wasn’t an obsession; dance was my obsession. At least I finally fitted the stereotype of being a stick thin dancer with the long legs and hip bones. I liked my hip bones. I liked being able to count my ribs which stuck out without having to hold my breath. I liked the compliments on my ability to lose weight so quickly. Some people were even jealous. I thrived on their envious sneers. They motivated me to go further. As if their negativity pushed me to rise above them like a phoenix from the ashes. They made me stronger and determined to become …show more content…
Hospitalised with tubes bulging out from my skin. I look to the left and see a hairbrush. My hairbrush. The amount of hair on it could be enough to cover a small cat. My beautiful blonde hair, just lying on the table… I didn’t think it would get this far. I thought that if I skipped a few meals or threw up after eating that the calories wouldn’t reach my body and I would be fine. Nights hovering the toilet pan became more of a consecutive thing. Fasting became easier and if I ever binged, I would make up for it later that day with my knees against the cold marble bathroom floor with two fingers travelling to the back of my