I have always used my own body as a way to reflect what was going on internally. My eating disorder started as a way to control internally what I was unable to control externally. My parents divorce, my abusive step-father, running away, being homeless, being institutionalized. I had no other form of expression, or at least I didn’t feel like I had other options of expression. Dance was more for me as a release than as communication. It is difficult enough to grow up in a society that idolizes and puts on the cover of every magazine, every billboard and every commercial size 0 models who are 6 feet tall. That in and of itself is hard enough, but add to that an eating disorder and then multiple surgeries, where underneath your “normal” exterior of clothing lies a battle ground for cancer, a road map of scars showing what your insides have been through. I would LOVE to sit here and tell you my scars are a testament to everything I have been through, that I am proud and that I am a survivor. I would love to tell you that that is enough, but it isn’t. I am a VAIN SURVIVOR. I want to look as normal as possible. I want to be the very best version of myself. I hate that I am carved from head to toe and not only have to compete in a world of unrealistic expectations with clothes on, but it’s a whole other story to do that as a single woman with clothes OFF. I am a vain survivor and I am not apologizing for it.