Vignette
She took her cafeteria tray to a table in the corner, so she could sit by herself. Although she was in two of my classes, I had never made eye contact with the girl. I thought it might be a good idea to break the ice, so I brought my homemade lunch over to her table and sat down, introducing myself.
She flashed a timid smile and told me her name: Sarah. However, she didn't seem like much of a conversationalist. She quickly became absorbed in her lunch, which consisted of two Little Debbie cakes that came neatly wrapped in a clear plastic bubble. There was nothing else on her tray but a carton of milk, which she didn't seem interested in at all for the moment. With her dainty fingers, Sarah eased open the plastic wrapper exactly on the seam, taking care not to damage the twin white hexagonal cakes housed inside. Sarah discarded the wrapper and held one of the cakes, which was no larger than the palm of her hand.
With the Little Debbies were freed from their wrapper, Sarah really went to work. She peeled away the outer frosting like an expert, concentrating hard so that it would come off in one piece. Obviously she had done this before. I couldn't help but stare with dumbfounded fascination as she placed each bit of frosting into her mouth and sucked on it. When both cakes were stripped bare of their outer layers, Sarah took a bite of the white spongy matter and suddenly looked up at me.
I'm getting full," she said, finally turning her attention to her neglected milk. After taking a few small sips, Sarah pushed her tray from her and smiled at me. "Gotta go to class!" she announced, suddenly cheerful. She grabbed her book bag and headed out of the cafeteria.
Sarah was my first encounter with anorexia. The power she felt after manipulating her so-called lunch was palpable: through controlling her food, she could re-gain some control over her life. Her demeanor transformed totally from the time I first said hello until she got up from the table; and yet when I saw her in class later on she reverted back to her taciturn, withdrawn self.
You’re 82% through this paper. Sign up to read the full paper.
Sign Up Now — Instant Access Already a member? Log inAlways verify citation format against your institution’s current style guide requirements.