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Throwback to February (left) and the day I decided to try and recover from my eating disorder…it was February 1st, the day I saw taylorswift in London at the O2. I’d seriously struggled since June the previous year, after lifelong self esteem issues. I lost an eighth of my body weight in total, my hair was falling out, I was depressed, lethargic, and it affected my whole family and also my friends who watched me waste away. I don’t look that thin here but I was almost half a stone underweight…that night, I saw my idol and was just blown away by her confidence, beauty and strength, like a sister was talking to me. When she performed Mean, I broke down in tears - for my head was my bully. That was when I decided to recover. Since then, despite relapses and tears and discomfort, I have regained my mental and physical health, I continue to face my fears, and I actually am starting to not only accept but like my body, as seen in right on Halloween this year. And to Taylor Swift, the girl in the red shorts I was so desperate to copy, I am eternally, unconditionally grateful…

Her smile is now a frown.

Her hamburger is now a salad.

Her tank tops are now sweaters.

Her long hair is now pulled back.

Her sparkling eyes are now dull.

No one asks if she’s okay.

But now her salad is an apple.

And her sweaters are getting bigger.

And her frown is getting deeper.

And her hair is falling out.

And her eyes have trouble staying open.

No one is asking if she’s okay.

So now her apple turns to nothing.

And her sweaters engulf her body.

And she hasn’t smiled in months.

And she wears a wig.

And she sleeps instead of going out.

Now they ask if she is okay.

And she’s not. Hasn’t been for a while.

Except now…it’s too late.

—  No one notices until it’s too late (original poem by skinnyrelease)