End the Cycle

At least I hope to. My mother suffers from it my sister and me.

I think I am beautiful, but it is hard to stop my mind from thinking that the noodles I will have will not go directly to my thighs. Or my ass, or my stomach, or the mirad of possiblities and fat deposits I have.
Why can we not be beautiful inwardly? Why do we make love with our eyes instead of our hands?
I hate that I understand the Hedi Montag plastic surgery side so much. I despise the uncertainty that floods my brain.

I wish I had a happy ending, but this is a constant struggle and sometimes I do ok others I don't. Today is one of them and I really need is understanding.