Huffington Magazine Issue 40 | Page 28

Voices At 12, I knew all about the menstrual cycle, since my hippy elementary school had spent an obscene amount of time discussing it. We were given important kernels of wisdom, like the fact that we could indeed make mayonnaise while on our periods. And we were made to pack prevention kits, consisting of a pair of underwear and a pad, which we were commanded to carry with us the way a diabetic carries her insulin shot. We were all fully prepared to get our periods, except I wouldn’t get my period that year. I didn’t get my period because I was 5 feet 6 inches tall and I weighed 85 pounds. At 11, I was diagnosed with anorexia and a compulsive exercising disorder. I don’t have an answer to why I developed anorexia. All I have is a series of clichéd responses. One day I was a carefree child eating chicken nuggets and curly fries. The next, there was suddenly nothing childlike about me and I was too afraid to eat a baked apple with cinnamon on it. Some children refuse to eat any food that isn’t white, while others refuse to take off their Halloween costumes and end up dressed as Esmeralda all year ISABELLA HUFFINGTON HUFFINGTON 03.17.13 long. At 11, I had rules too. I woke up every morning at 5 so that I could jump rope. I had to jump 1,000 times, and if I messed up I had to start again. I always messed up. My hair ties had to match my socks. I would only go to bed at numbers divisible by 5. What I remember about being 11 is packing the same lunch every day: three dried apricots, eight pistachios and half of a Na- Getting my period meant I was healthy. And that was the problem. I didn’t want to be healthy; I wanted to be skinny.” ture Valley “Oats ‘N Honey” bar. I remember my hair falling out in red, curly clumps in a London salon. On my 12th birthday, I refused to eat my birthday cake, and that is when my mother panicked, taking me to see a doctor who told me if I didn’t gain 15 pounds, I would be hospitalized. I remember going to lunch with my mother afterwards and her pushing the breadbasket towards me. I remember the bread tasted like sawdust and stuck on my tongue like a lump of flesh.