I often find myself looking in the mirror, as most girls my age do. I look at my thighs that touch. I see how they wobble as I walk. I look at my round stomach, almost endearing in the most sickening way. I see the parts of me I hate, and wish someone would come along with a scissors and chop them off, sling them into a trash can over their shoulder and have that be that. At the same time, I feel my shoulder blades poking into the back of my shirt. I can stick my fingers under my ribs if I try hard enough. I feel my pelvis clinging to my skin. I don't understand how my body can work like this. I don't understand how I can fluctuate so intensely within one form. I know I have an unhealthy relationship with food. I find myself binge eating repeatedly, simply to get the food out of the house. Once I know something is there, I can't stop thinking about it, picturing the flavours melting onto my tongue, my teeth sinking into the textures, washing it all down with enough water t...