JOY.
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She thinks age is relative. If she were to be perfectly honest, she'll tell you she actually thinks she's an old soul. Her energy, though, says otherwise. She's a double major in Politics and Psychology, but her biggest dream is to work for National Geographic.

She'll never admit it to anyone, but she's always wanted to be a princess, and no, not the Disney kind. She loves anything Arabic and Russian, and she likes chocolate more than she likes a lot of things, and there are a lot of things she likes. She likes cameras, the military, dogs, Lego, Batman, and Harry Potter.

On random days, she refers to herself in the third person, and people think it's weird. She doesn't care, though, a friend once told her that weird is good.

Her mind's essentially Hotel California.

She's a Youth For Christ.

That's not to say she's a holy person, or that she's a righteous one. All it actually means is that she believes in living her life for something far greater than who she is. People sometimes look at her with scorn, especially since she lives in a world where no one wants to get associated with religion, but she doesn't mind.

Because everyday she's becoming a better version of herself.

She can't be angry. She tries, but she just can't. The simplest, shallowest things make her laugh. Mess with her friends, though, and she'll rush to you and make you remember why that wasn't such a good idea.

She's boyish, which can be because she has a lot of guy friends more than she has girls, but the ones here below, she's been friends with them since forever.

And she's planning to keep it that way.

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Stroll along memory lane May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 Current Posts

I'm not going to be a hypocrite. There are days when I groggily stumble out of my bed and glare at the sun rays that were able to penetrate my draped windows a few hours into the morning. I look down, eyes half-shut, and I wipe the sweat that's formed sometime in the middle of the night, when my hair decided to make its way to the various crevices of my face and trapped the heat inside. I stand up, stare at the mirror, then I tell myself, "Damn. I'm fat."

And then I'll spend the rest of the day hating everything. Even (especially) myself.

- o -

One of the things I dislike about girls everywhere is how much they think they're fat, even if they're well within the range of healthiness. I dislike how they would starve themselves to death, and cry, and pinch their skin, and sleep with nothing but water in their stomachs; and then they wake up, find themselves a pound lighter, reward themselves with food, and then go back to the first step.

It's a neverending cycle. And it's vicious.

I'm only seventeen, and I still have lots to learn in this world, but if what I just said seems familiar because it's something you've done yourself, then I've got something to tell you.

You're not fat.

You're only fat when you attempt to look down and you can no longer see your toes because your stomach's in the way. Aside from that, you're not fat. Sure, the weighing scale might show that you're on the heavier side, or you have to jump up and down repeatedly just to fit into your favourite pants you could've sworn fit you last week, and, okay... even your doctor told you you're overweight; but even if you are, for Pete's sake don't starve yourself.

I know how it feels to once be fat, morbidly obese, even. I know how it feels to have to conform to everyone's standards. Hell, I know how it feels to be anorexic. I know how it feels to wake up and see myself losing a pound a day and rejoicing in it. And the more I lose, the more I feel that eating's impertinent anymore. I know how it feels like to eat only three crackers a day, because eating more than that might destroy my diet. I know how it feels like to lose much more pounds in a month than gain weight in a year. I know how it feels to be confined in a hospital because all the food I didn't eat meant little less energy for my body as a whole.

I know how it all feels like, and I'm not going back to that again.

You... You're not fat. Just because you gained a pound after last night's pig out session doesn't mean you should stop eating today. Just because you're not as stick-thin as you were a year ago doesn't mean you should lock yourself up and indulge yourself in nothing. Just because people told you you've become chubbier doesn't mean you're fat.

Truth is, people will put you down most of the time, and if you let them pull you, remember it's only heavy things that get anchored. Otherwise, they float. Don't let yourself be brought down with them. First, because you weren't born to be trampled over; and second, because you're not fat.

Sometimes people come to me and tell me I've gotten fatter ever since high school. I smile, unwrap whatever I'm eating, pop it in my mouth, and say, "I'm good with this."

Because they never know just how much I had to get through in order to accept myself for who I am. I'm happy I'm not anorexic, I'm happy I can eat freely now, and I'm happy I can look at myself in the mirror without wincing, and honestly tell myself, "You look better now."