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And since it seems like every single “naturally beautiful” thing about me comes with a downside that needs to be enhanced by store-bought beauty, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m really naturally beautiful at all, or if Mom’s use of the term “naturally beautiful” goes in the same place where others would just use the term “ugly.”
Through writing, I feel power for maybe the first time in my life. I don’t have to say somebody else’s words.
I need to get back to anorexia. I need to be a kid again.
The years that you’re supposed to spend building character, I was spending building characters.