A B B Y S • P O V

"It's not like I grew up hating what I looked like. There were things I knew I would change if I could. But it didn't eat away at me. It didn't consume me.

"But yeah as I got older, I started to feel it more. Ya know, having two brothers, identical twins, that the media are obsessed with can take its toll. I guess being here, at this facility, helped me to understand that better. I never resented them but it did feel a little unfair that I was working so hard to have this career. Yet, attention came to them without effort.

"All they had to do was post a photo in their swim shorts and the entire world would lose its mind. Yet, I would post a bikini shot and I get labels thrown at me. Slut. Whore. Attention seeker. Which to be honest, that shit was easy to let slide. I know that I'm not a slut. I've slept with two dudes in my life. And I didn't charge for either of them. Which is by definition what a whore is. But anyway, I'm getting off topic.

"Where was I goin— oh right. So the photos. The names weren't ideal but they weren't killing me. It was when people started commenting on my figure. Pointing things out about my hips or my boobs. Or the fact that I'm not tall. Or saying that my arms are too muscular. Or my nose is too small for my face or my lips are too big in comparison to my nose. Or the space between my hairline and my forehead is weird. Or my ass is too big for my legs. You literally can't make this shit up. People will point out anything.

"And again, I tried to let it slide. Not let it get to me. Ya know. Fuck them. They don't know me. But those words, they echo. Especially when you're in the mirror. Maybe after a shower and you're looking and you see it. The details.

"You see the details that other people see and it starts to fester and you obsess over wanting to fix the things that people have pointed out so that no one can ever point out a single flaw again and you can fit into this bracket of perfection that doesn't fucking exist because the media have fed you lies and edited photos and found girls that are so rare and high on the spectrum of flawless. And even those girls get edited so we all end up chasing this totally unrealistic goal and it will literally kill us but no one does a damn thing to stop it.

"So yes. I knew that I was letting my decisions be influenced by a toxic mind frame. But the need to meet the criteria outweighed health. It outweighed happiness because your brain tricks you into believing that reaching this unattainable goal will unlock happiness but it won't. It ruins everything and I'd never been more unhappy than when I was a size zero, head over the toilet bowl, losing a lunch that consisted of fucking leaves and tomatoes.

"And even though I know what I need to do differently and I have the resources and the motivation, I still feel that I'm going to be battling my own mind day in and day out but this time, I want to win and I know where the happiness is. It's not at size zero. It's not at deaths fucking door."

A round of applause echoed in the sharing lounge.

I'd almost forgotten that I was in a circle of other girls. Other girls that had been here with me. Learning to defeat their demons. Still learning.

Our team leader, Andrea, clapped, she cheered and hollered. So I smiled at her across the circle and nodded. It looked like she was about to burst into tears.

The speech was a far change from how I'd been when I first arrived here. At the Crossman's Healing and Treatment centre.

The facility was huge. It was made up of several different buildings on trimmed green land with gardens, swimming pools, stables and tennis courts.

There were wings for alcoholism, suicidal patients, addiction, people recovering from traumatic accidents. And of course the building I had been admitted to six months ago. For eating disorders.

People from all walks of life lived here. Men and woman. Teenagers and adults. There was a girl as young as nine and a man as old as fifty seven.

But our sharing circle was for girls between sixteen and twenty five. There were a lot of sharing circles and the idea was to connect with people that you could relate to.

To share experiences and get things off your chest that contributed to your disorder.

Sharing circles came after intensive therapy. You couldn't share if you didn't understand. Even when I had been invited to the sharing circle, I still wasn't up for sharing.

But over the months, I'd grown close to the girls here. Annie, a seventeen year old girl with bulimia who had short black hair and sharp cheekbones.

Jemma, twenty, anorexia. She shaved her head before her parents brought her in. She said that it was a 'fuck you' move. The mouse brown strands were growing back, thick and coarse.

Alex. Twenty two. She was like me. Anorexia. But bulimia in attempt to throw people off by eating in front of them and throwing up later.

All of the girls here were great. But those three were special. The share circle was a safe place. I felt empowered to share and talk.

It was so safe that I was almost afraid to leave. I wasn't sure what was waiting for me on the outside.

The media.

My mom and dad.

It was a relief I didn't have to go home. Whenever I remembered dad breaking down in front of me, crying and begging to know what he could do to help me, it was like a knife twisting in my stomach.

He visited once a week for three months after the no contact order was lifted. He never missed it. He was never late.

Each time he sat there with mom, talking to me about what had been happening and keeping topics light, I could tell he was struggling to keep himself together.

He wasn't his usual self when he came here. He didn't crack inappropriate jokes or embarrass me in front of the staff. He didn't shout or laugh too loud.

I did that to him.

I couldn't stand living with him and having to watch him walk on eggshells around me. It wasn't fair.

"You're so lucky to be going home," Alex grumbled as we stood in the foyer of building.

The waterfall feature on the wall was drizzling, the electric doors opened and closed as staff came in and out.

Almost the entire building's worth of patients were standing behind us while the girls and I said our farewells.

Mom and Dad were waiting just outside.

"Take us with you," Annie whispered, Jemma nodded in agreement and the four of us giggled.

"We'll keep in touch," I said, letting them pull me into a group hug. "And you have to come and stay with me in Hermosa when the three of you are out."

They liked that idea. Annie and Jemma let go, but Alex wrapped me into an individual hug and whispered beside my ear," fix things with him," she said, low enough that no one could hear. "You know we deprive ourselves of love because we don't want to tarnish the people we care about. We don't want them to see our imperfection. So we sabotage our own happiness. Fix things. Call him."

I swallowed and gave her a weak nod when she held my shoulders and kept eye contact.

She was the only person I'd confided in about Flynn.

Of course, the share circle knew about him. Knew that we'd broken up. But Alex was the one I shared details with.

I peered around her and waved at the thirty something people that were huddled, watching, waving as I backed up towards the exit.

"I love you all!"

"We love you!" The response came in unison, loud and encouraging. I felt so positive.

But that was another warning I'd received. Things always felt warmer here. Easier.

It was facing the challenges of day to day life that proved too much sometimes. Falling back into old habits. Feeling those pressures that existed and created problems in the first place.

I saw mom and dad beside a town car as soon as I stepped outside.

"Baby," mom squealed, opening her arms.

Falling into her embrace was a relief. It was different from our usual weekly meetings in the visitors lounge. It was like being home again.

Dad wrapped around us both and rested his chin on top of my head. "You look beautiful princess," he murmured.

The three of us untangled and I smiled at him with gratitude. It was the first thing he said whenever I saw him.

"You sure you don't want to come home?"

Mom smacked him in the stomach and shot him a warning glare.

I hadn't seen either of them since I'd said I didn't want to come home. It made me uncomfortable to see dad's desperation.

Even if he was attempting to hide it.

"What? And be subjected to all of the gross goings ons of you two. No thanks. Scarred enough after eighteen years at home. I'm good."

Dad looked ashamed. Which made me feel bad. His relationship with mom never bothered me, but I didn't want to tell him the truth.

We slid into the car. Mom sat up in the front seat. Dad and I took the back. "You know, it might be worse at Max's. Since Amalia just moved in."

"Nothing could be worse than you and mom," I stared out of the window. I missed dad. I missed our friendship so much. "Max is nowhere near as unhinged as you, Dad."

He laughed and gave me a nudge in the shoulder. "Even Lucas and Milly are closer."

"Lucas lives in a dorm and so does Mills."

"Yeah but we could've set you up somewhere. The three of you. We would have done that."

Mom turned in the front seat and gave him another warning glare.

"I just think New York is so far away. You know? And—"

"Dad," I snapped. "Please just let it be. I'm not living with you and mom and I'm not living with Lucas and Milly. Even if the four of you weren't disgusting sex obsessed animals, at least I know that Max gets a hint and drops it when he's told!"

Dad's face dropped and so did my stomach. It hurt. Fuck, it was painful when he looked upset.

But Lucas and Dad cared a little too much sometimes. It scared me to imagine that I could screw up, again, and they would be right there watching, hating themselves for failing me.

That wasn't their responsibility to shoulder.

I had to know I could do this. That I could survive out in the real world. I had to know I was healed before I let them get close again.