Better Left Unknown

I had always had a good relationship with my mother, we rarely fought, and when we did we would make up the next day and go on like nothing had ever happened. We would spend hours talking, she would take me shopping, we did a lot of things together and I truly enjoyed everything we did.

When I was fifteen I found myself sitting across from my mother at the local Dairy Queen. We sat there talking about various topics, everything from school and work, T.V and movies, boys and makeup. Just like we always did.

 

“I’m worried about Erica.” My mother stated.

 

My older sister, by two years, Erica. Why was she worrying about her? What was there to worry about? She was a high school Sophomore at a good private Catholic school, she ran on the cross country and track teams, she was involved in various clubs, she had a large group of friends, and she made good grades. What could my mom possibly be worried about.

 

“Why?” I asked her looking up from my diet coke that I slowly sipped.

 

“I don’t know.” She replied, looking back down swirling her ice cream with her spoon.

 

“What? Did she do something?”

 

“No. I’m just worried about her.”

 

“Mom. I don’t know why you’re worrying. Everything seems fine.”

 

“Well she’s going to be going to college in a couple of years.” She said, as if this explained everything to me.

 

“So. Tons of kids go to college. What’s the problem?”

 

“She isn’t going to be running cross country or track in college and you know how bad her eating habits are. If she didn’t run she would be as big as a whale.”

 

“What’s your point?”

 

“Erica’s the type of girl who’ll get an eating disorder. I think she’ll become anorexic.”

 

I sat there, my mind coming to a complete stop. How could she think something like that? Erica had the perfect body, she was thin, yet she till had curves in all the right places. Boys fawned over her, she could have her pick of any boy she wanted.

 

What blew my mind the most though however, was how blind my mother was. She rarely spent time with my sister, and here she sat worrying about her, when in all truth I was the one with the eating disorder. She spent so much time with me, yet she never noticed the excessive amount of exercise I did, how I picked at my food and threw it away, and the occasional “stomach bugs” I had empting what little I had eaten into the toilet.

 

“Oh, please. Erica loves food to much to do that.” I said brushing it off, and putting on a fake smile. “You ready to go?” I asked getting up and tossing my diet coke into the garbage.

 

“Yeah.” My mom answered finishing off her last spoonful of her ice cream.

 

Two years later I found myself at four in the morning, sitting in the living room with my now nineteen year old sister. We were talking about everything. We had never had a very good relationship, and it surprised me that we were sharing secrets with each other.

 

She was telling me about the party after her prom and she had divulged to me that her and her current boyfriend had gotten a little hot and heavy that night. I was shocked. My parents and I had always thought she was a prude. Turns out she wasn’t so prudish after all. She confessed to getting drunk at parties, another thing my parents never thought she did.

 

I asked her if she had ever made herself throw up or not eaten. She looked shocked and replied no in a disgusted tone.

 

“Why would I ever do that? It’s so stupid.”

 

“I don’t know. A couple of years ago mom said something about thinking you would be anorexic.”

 

“No. Have you ever done either?”

 

I didn’t want to lie to her. We were finally bonding, after years of name calling and fights, we were finally opening up to each other.

 

“Yea. I’ve thrown up before and I don’t eat sometimes.”

 

I decided not to give her the whole truth.

 

“Stephanie! Don’t you ever do that again!” She scolded me.

 

“It was just a couple of times.” I lied.

 

“I don’t care. Promise me you’ll never do that again.”

 

“Okay I promise.”

 

We didn’t talk much after that and we soon fell asleep, after promising not to tell mom or dad about anything we had said that night.

 

I thought things had changed between us. That she would start being nice to me now, no more name calling, no more fighting. God, I was so wrong. She went right back to being her normal self.

Two days after our talk, I was taking a shower, when Erica banged on the door and promptly told me to “hurry my fat a*s up.”

 

I immediately broke down into tears. How could she say such a thing after what I had told her? I realized then and there that my sister and I would never have that special bond sisters have. Hearing her remark, I shoved two fingers down my throat, removing the contents of my stomach.

 

I sat in the shower and cried as I watched what little food I had eaten that day wash down the drain with the water.

 

My mother and I are no where near as close as we used to be. We fight nearly every day. Rarely do we take our once regular shopping trips, I’ve found that it is easier this way.

 

Two years later and I still wonder how my mother cannot see what’s right in front of her. The red bracelet ever present on my left wrist, the dark circles under my eyes, and my ever thinning figure.

 

Two years later and I still cannot believe that a nineteen year old woman needs to put down her little sister to boost her own ego and self worth.

 

Two years later and I still wonder why I am fat at 102lbs.

 

I guess some things are better left unknown.

Reviews

[Rain]

Wow..
I never realized who prevalent eating disorders are. Your piece shows how easy it is to hide. 102 lbs is too skinny. I'm surprised your mother, or especially your sister hasn't said anything to you. I can't believe your sister would say something so cruel to you. I hope you are seeking help. I think this is a courageous piece. Rain..