Description
I wrote “A Story Too Well Known” after being inspired by Halsey’s speech at the 2018 Women’s March in New York. Although the singer’s poem, “A Story Like Mine”, was written about sexual assault, its tone and passion truly pushed me to create my own piece about eating disorder culture in Los Angeles and the pressure to be thin. Throughout high school, I kept a journal of my experiences with the two subjects, as these issues weighed heavily on my day to day life. Pulling from my journal and reminiscing on those days, I wrote a poem that rings true to my heart and the experiences of women everywhere. I hope this piece can inspire others to speak up about their experiences with toxic eating cultures and the pressure that society puts on women to have the ideal body.
A Story Too well Known
by Elizabeth Suby
Ever since I can remember, during each afternoon
The kitchen at my house closed because dinner was soon
My days were full of aloe water and chunky green juice
And at night I’d sneak downstairs to let my hunger loose
In the morning at school each exhausted girl slammed their car door
Stomachs running on yesterday’s lunch, clearly needing more
Filing into the front gates out of the parking lots
Hands gripping lattes, almond milk, no sugar, 3 shots
When lunch time rolled around each plate was completely empty
Not a slice or a bite as far as the eye could see
But some of us filled our plates to the top
Eating what we wanted, unable to stop
Soon enough you’d find us, our backs in a hunch
On the bathroom floor crying after we lost our lunch
Whatever we do, we’re stuck in a trap
And no lifestyle I’ve tried has been able to fill the gap
The gaping hole in my heart that tells me I’m not good enough
That forces me to be hard on myself, a little too rough
I’ve watched my sister cry over her young figure
When she doesn’t even know what she’ll look like when she’s bigger
A seven year old starving herself to look like models on TV
When she hasn’t even started middle school or hit puberty
Each woman I know has a story like mine
We compare ourselves to each other, then we fall in line
In the same world that reaps life-threatening messes
Little girls play in pretty pink dresses
Everything is beautiful and perfect up front
But behind closed doors, its ourselves who we hunt
I can’t imagine a day when I’ll leave myself alone
Tell myself I’m okay, that it’s safe to go home
Home to a room that haunts me when I sleep
Where I stared in the mirror instead of counting sheep
How awful is it that our own bodies make us weep
We’re in the wake of abandoning the thoughts that we keep
For our sake, for all women, let’s hope the cuts aren’t too deep