A Skeleton in my Closet by Rebecca Sy
Can you see the suffering and anguish that consumes me in this photo? No, you can’t. Everyone has skeletons in their closet and this is my skeleton story. On the surface, I seemed normal. At least, that’s what I wanted to be. I posed as if I was living the ideal dream. I’m smiling, but deep down, I hated every inch of myself. Although my body looks slim and fit, in reality, it was malnourished and very underweight. The sun glowed on my skin, and yet, I still felt cold and empty. I had painted the picture on Instagram of a flawless girl, with a perfect life. I yearned to be that girl; the one whose beauty everyone admired and wanted to be around. I knew I wasn’t, and yet it seemed like everyone else was. No matter how many times I ran, skipped dinner, criticized myself, and morphed every part of my life, it was never enough. I constantly set this invisible bar, higher and higher, until it was no longer reachable. When this photo was taken, I was with my family for a “fun” vacation