*I know.*

I need to be honest about something right now. I have to admit to you, in case I have not yet, that I understand much of the appeal of these websites. I understand the desire to belong when you feel no one understands. I understand the pressure to fit in. I also feel anxiety and confusion when I see others who are skinnier than I am or prettier than I am or happier than I am or whatever it is that day…I understand the feeling of thinking ‘I just need to lose a little more and then I’ll be happy…but not now, now I don’t deserve to be happy.”

I don’t understand celebrating those feelings. I don’t understand making others feel that way. Those people you are encouraging to hurt themselves are REAL PEOPLE. Imagine reading the posts people write and it is your little sister saying it to you, or your best friend. Would you let them feel that way?

I need to be honest about another thing. Though I am a very upfront and confrontational person (come on now, I’m a PR student), I have trouble facing major issues and letting other people in on them as well. It’s kind of like how I can sing in front of an audience of 1,000 with no problem, but to sing in front of a single person is impossible. That’s how the Internet is. We have no problem addressing our fears and our angers and our imperfections here—everyone is faceless. We make up fake usernames and post abstract pictures of ourselves. I understand the solace in remaining anonymous.

In all honesty, I haven’t even told my best friend that I have this blog. I am scared to. I can tell the whole world about it in my blog, but I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone and tell her. That would be singing to a single person, it’s too hard, too scary, and your gonna feel and see every one of their reactions. And then you have to answer to them.

So, I am working on the whole courage thing. I’ll tell her when she’s ready and when I am ready. But, in all honesty, I am scared. I am scared that I am writing every post with her in mind but I am not taking the right steps with her personally. I found this poem on another anti-pro-ana website and it really made me think about her.

“I need more time to find the real me… To fly like the birds…to be set free. Why couldn’t I stop until I had died? It was hate for myself hidden inside.”

Please, I am asking all of you reading; do not let it get to this point. Do not let these websites allow them to get to this point.