I was a happy kid with a supportive family and a lot of friends. But frankly speaking, growing up was really 1 and even painful. During my childhood, I spent much time trying to achieve perfection in every aspect of my life, which made me extremely tired and anxious. I wanted everyone's compliments and hugely feared criticism. But I didn't realize that I was the one who 2 myself in the toughest way.
After I graduated from high school, my 3 to be "thin" began to trouble me. I went on a diet. In the beginning I dieted by controlling food and gradually I started 4 meals. I lost weight day by day and felt super good. What I didn't see was that I was slowly 5 myself.
People around me began to 6 my weight loss. They said with concern, "You're losing too much weight." "Elisa, you're so skinny." All their words only suggested that I was getting closer to "7".
Sadly, I took my physical 8 the first important in my life, 9 that it was the way to become attractive and accepted. Then I cut down my 10 more and more, until a 11 day including half a teaspoon of nonfat yoghurt and black coffee in the morning, and a cup of grapes at night.
But my poor 12 began to cause me to lose 13. Then one night, like many nights before, I couldn't sleep, and my heart felt as though it might beat out of my chest. I tried to 14, but I couldn't. The beating became so rapid and so strong that I could no longer 15. What I had done to diet nearly caused me to have a heart attack. I stood up, and immediately fell down. I was really 16, and I knew I needed help. My roommate rushed me to the 17, beginning the long road to my 18. It took a lot—doctors, nurses, nutritionists, and food supplements.
And more importantly, a sense of what was true about myself got back on track with reality. I realized that, with my 19 of trying to be "perfect" on the 20, I had sacrificed who I was inside my body. Now what I know is, we are—every one of us—already perfect enough.
