The Opposite of Butterfly Hunting: The Tragedy and the Glory of Growing Up

by Evanna Lynch

It was his classes and his seemingly boundless zest for creativity that reignited hope in my heart and helped me begin to see the first glimmers of colour for a vision of life beyond anorexia. It was much better therapy than the actual therapy.

insatiable appetite for hunger!

My theory on this is that you can’t ever actually beat anorexia: you can only abandon it.

it’s easier to medicate it than it is to sit with the raw pain of “why am I here?” Kids are getting younger with it; they’re asking questions of “Why am I here? Who put me here to do what?”, and those questions must be answered. If they can’t find solutions to those questions, they’re not going to bother buying into the three-dimensional currencies of food, sex, getting a job: all that stuff just feels rudimentary and pointless, so they don’t bother. That’s why these people tend to fall between the cracks, because they’re not treated properly.’

when something or someone else captivates you to the point of distraction, it is because they are reflecting something within you that is longing to be expressed.

But you have to put yourself out there for these things; you have to be foolish and idealistic and take risks. You have to try.

insouciance,

In a way, this was what I had always prayed for: to shrug off myself and trade her in for someone better.

solipsistic

vitriol

nomenclature,

I began to wonder which came first: a strong, healthy, attractive body, or an appreciation for it? What if a foundation of self-love was responsible for that radiant glow they all possessed?

panacea

lepidopterist.

there is something undeniably sinister about pinching out a life to steal its beautiful corpse.