July 14.

About two weeks ago, I bought new underpants.

Some of you may think “what’s the big deal, it’s just a pair of underpants, everyone has them.”

True.  Everyone (hopefully) has and wears underpants.  (And if they don’t, I hope it’s by choice.)  Probably not a big deal.

For me, though, the new underpants were a super huge big deal, because in order to BUY underpants, you have to THINK about underpants, which means you have to think about what goes IN the underpants.

“My ass.”

I had to think about my ass.

As an anorexic, there are a few parts of my body that I try hard to NOT think about.  My stomach.  My hips.  The thick-skin-fat roll that smooshes out just under my bra strap along my back, south off my armpits along my shoulder blades.  My inner thigh, my inner knees,

and my rear end.

In order to buy underpants, just like buying a new pair of jeans or a swimming suit (both of which I detest shopping for equally as much), you have to think about the size, shape, and necessary confinement of your backside.  You have to consider what it looks like now, and what it will look like in your new clothing.

You also tend to consider what it should look like.

What you wished it looked like.

And aaaaah…   there’s the problem.Read More