From the Pews in the Back by Kate Dugan

Author:Kate Dugan
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8146-3902-3
Publisher: Liturgical Press
Published: 2010-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Deborah Heimel graduated from Drew University in 2000 and went on to serve as a Jesuit Volunteer in Hartford, Connecticut, in 2000–2001. She is now the director of operations at REACH Beyond Domestic Violence in Waltham, Massachusetts.

To Share a Meal with Jesus

Jessica Coblentz

* * *

When I close my eyes, I can still see myself standing there, fourteen years old, looking down at the glowing red numbers.

It is the fifth time I stand on the beeping black scale today. I cannot help it. 112.5. I sigh, stepping off the box into my loose denim jeans. I always remove them to weigh myself. Turning, I toss my hair in the bathroom mirror, smile, and open the hallway door. I am starving.

The house sits atop a hill in a bustling Seattle suburb full of charming parks and walking trails, friendly neighbors and golden retrievers. Thanks to my parents’ unceasing support throughout childhood, at age fourteen I am an outgoing leader and a passionate student with an amiable personality. I have played competitive soccer and taken on leading roles in local musical theater productions. On one hand, it has been a wonderfully pleasant upbringing.

On the other hand, the blind suburban bliss of youth has finally caught up to me. In junior high school I find myself amid a daunting depression. Injuries have pulled me from club soccer and school volleyball, and a new academic track has left me isolated from the comfort of scholastic ease and my long-standing clique. Without the busy-ness of the everyday and a collection of medals dangling around my neck, life seems immensely unfulfilling.

Attempting to ward off my depression, I do what many young American teen girls do: I don name brands and too much makeup, and embark on a more active quest for popularity. Absorbed in new ventures, I distract everyone—including myself—from the eating disorder I am secretly fostering. I like the affirmation I feel as I drop pounds and denim sizes. It is enough to sustain me throughout each day, even as my stomach churns. Between reps at the gym, I tell myself I need this. I do not need food, I need to be happy; I need to be so beautiful I am happy.

But the emptiness inside me is unrelenting. Despite thinner thighs, I still cry myself to sleep, quietly hoping that there is something more—that self-worth is not meant to be this hard.

One day I read the caption below a smiling, pale-skinned complexion in People magazine. It reads, “This is so-and-so at 103 lbs. At this point, she consumed 400 calories a day.” That was more than I had eaten the day before. And she recently died. In spite of my obsession with mirrors, I truly see myself for the first time in a long time. I have tried dangerously hard to fix things, I think to myself, and I am still so unhappy.

Frightened and ashamed, I decide to battle my destructive habits. I am still depressed, though, and even more discouraged than before. I lose

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