(This is my story, maybe someone will find solace in this, if you’ve experienced the same.)

you can use it for character development, pretend it makes you matter in this timeline. you can think of it as a turning point, you can blame on it for all bad that happened. you can frame yourself as a victim of your own story. but it never leaves you. maybe it was your fault. maybe you liked being noticed a bit too much. maybe you craved love so much that you didnt grow up to be strong enough to resist. or maybe you were just a young girl who didnt know when to push away, maybe you were just too struck by the glow of attention, the thrill of what the world surrounded you with. or maybe it all just went to fast and you became paralyzed. maybe it was his fault, he shouldnt have touched you, even though you couldve stopped him. but it doesnt matter, not when that one happening makes you question each part of you, that they were right about you and you really were just as they disposed you as. and then you want to spend your whole life living up to the expectations of someone who never even cared about you. but never the less. it does something to you. to be watched and put into a box. just tell them, its not a big deal, but how do you speak up when you dont have a voice anymore? because all you hear are all the others, shouting at you in your mind.

it was the fourth of july. the summer was arriving with a quick blooming, planting hopes of an eventful summer, where life was lived. i was at a party was filled with one too many beer cans and drinks. bodies were sprawled across couches, everyone leaving this wolrd and entering an alchohol dazed dream. and there i was, one of my first parties. somehting i had always dreamed of, living the teenage dream, finally feeling like i fit in. like my life wasnt settling for waste. i had worked hard for this, i believed myself to finally acheive the role i had yearned for, the girl who was invited and had this great friendgroup, who glowed and mattered. i was finally feeling like her. the past me was forgotten in the moment, the one who lived in the body of an insecure, scared girl, who always felt like she wasnt worthy. this night, i wasnt watching life from the sidelines anymore. i was her. i was a girl who lived. across the room, his gaze intertwined with mine, lighting up that pride in my chest, sparking fireworks of confidence in me, that had been hidden beneath depths for years. he walked with confident strides toward me, his status and importance, market value placed high, oozing value and approvemnet. someone like that had seen me. i smiled at him as he walked up close to me. i hadnt talked to him, all i knew was how everyone secrelty praised him and his group. they owned it. and my best friend knew it, she had put her chances in him already, by placing her virginity into him, him who only used girls. i knew that, of course, but how he looked at me with want, everyhting she used to say about me, how she made me feel so bad next to her. it felt like a fuck you, i am actually woth it no matter how you treat me. in my mind, i had won. and so when he creeped closer and followed me, i wasnt scared, it lit excitement up in me. and when he kissed me, i kissed him back. i knew i shouldnt have, should have pushed him away, but god. i hated feeling so small and constantly downgraded by her, and how she made everyone see me the same way too. ill just prove somehting. in these five seconds. but he didnt stop, even when i walked away. i turned my back to him, backed away. okay, enough is enough. i cant do this to her. and i will of course save myself for someone i have waited for. this one special guy who will treat me good, and make me feel the way boys in books do. ive lived vicarously through fiction, the hopeless romantic in me. of course i wont settle for this. so hell no. i havent prepared for this at all. he has got to go. now.

«stop, no. no stop. she wnats you. i cant do that to her. stop.» i said backing away from his place on the bed. also, panic was starting to rise in me. i have not prepared at all. i am seriosuly just inocent and nobody is nearing that place. that is sacred for my own love story. but then his hands started to reach for my skirt. i panicked and froze. i still remember how his hands felt, the disgust. how paralyzed i was when he lifted up my shirt, for at least this. like i owed it. and i felt like that little girl again. the scared, insecure one. i wasnt in control. i wasnt great. i was another one. i remember the smirk on his lips, and how he lifted my skirt for a look in my imprisoned state. and his eyes played a mockery of me. one that i knew later would be used against me. all because i didnt want to lose my self worth and repsect to a douche, so he took the liberty to trespass my body because i was too weak to push away, too panicked and out of control to stand up for myself. and as shame settled over my body, like a forest brunt down. how that shame followed me, as each one of my friends turned their backs on me. hanuted and tanuted me. put me back into an imprisoned mind, where they had the key and it was locked. how they locked it when they spread words about my body to everyone, painting me in a vision of mockery and disgust. created my life for me as a victim for bullies. only once they left me there, phsyically, they never went away in the head. i never ever wanted them to be right again, about me, about my worth, my disgusting self, my horrible personality, my worsening life. so they stayed there. as an audience in my mind. never, ever satifsfied. they grew bigger, as a crowd, all of them starting to push further. how i was living my life, my every move, my thoughts and actions. my body. never, ever enough. always striving for worth.

until one day it was gone, i was gone. i needed to feel it again. i needed to let go of the disgust and shame over my body, the mockery, the voices, the tanuting. i needed some worth. control. security. company. and it was just there, and i welcomed it. it wasnt bad in the start, until one day, the thoughts were too much and my lfie was missed and there was only it now. and then the depseration for relifef disepeared. and it was only it left. it s like a slow suicide. of the little girl in me, of the life that was meant to be lived. its called anorexia. and it is never, ever satisfied. it isnt meant to. now, i have become it. i feel like the little, scared girl, wanting to live her life out, but instead becoming trapped by watching herself from the sidelines.