*content warning: eating disorder culture, eating disorder, discussion of weight, food*
Dear green tea and lemonade,
I remember the day Ms. Martin pulled us out into the hallway to tell us of your magical powers, all of us clumped together like a clique in a movie about the powers of bullying. Fifteen seventh grade girls being preached the scripture of diet culture by our substitute teacher. I remember shuffling back into the classroom after the sermon to rejoin the boys who had missed the “girl talk” to learn the math lesson for that day. I remember how lunch the next period was a little more silent as we all picked at our food, thinking of all the dangerous calories each triangle of our turkey sandwiches held.
Green tea and lemonade, I remember thinking about you that day in gym class when they taught us about calories and body mass index. Mr. Jameson was so proud when I already knew the calorie count of every fun size Halloween candy, but that pleased look on his face quickly disappeared when he looked at my BMI calculation. I ran an extra lap that day. Hopefully that made up for the baby fat that had upset my teacher so much.
You were always my favorite drink at the theater, especially on the weeks leading up to fitting days when Helen would take all of our measurements for our costumes. I was already a problem child in her eyes for being so tall, but when my hips and breasts came in at age 13 that only made her job harder. I wouldn’t ever eat lunch on those days, hoping she would announce to me and anyone else in earshot that I had dropped an inch off my waist or that my arms had finally gotten a bit slimmer. That never really happened. Most of those days ended with me on my kitchen floor inhaling tears and Stouffers’ Mac and Cheese. I never understood why after those mortifying fittings I would still end up in the tightest, skimpiest costume of everyone in the show- I could never really tell if they were trying to keep me humble during fittings or if me being the “hot” character was always some funny joke everyone was in on but me.
You stopped being my drink of choice when I turned sixteen and realized that you weren’t a miracle elixir, but a sugary drink yourself. By then I had a car, I had freedom and meals were more my responsibility than my parents. It was so easy- I just wouldn’t eat unless I was out with my friends, that way I could eat all the dangerous little calories I wanted. It made me feel like a cool girl who didn’t care the way she looked, it made me feel like I “wasn’t like the other girls” when I would down a cheeseburger and shake at 11pm on a Tuesday. All those calories didn’t matter if I just didn’t eat anymore until Thursday when my mom and I had dinner plans at Toyamas.
Those patterns faded too when I went to boarding school and there wasn’t any food I deemed to be worth the binge, worth the hundreds and hundreds of dangerous little calories. Plus, I got too busy. Too busy to workout, too busy to count my calories, too busy to eat a balanced meal, too busy to eat anything besides Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups from the vending machine right outside my hall door. I never really talked about our complicated relationship much, green tea and lemonade. My roommate had had too many close friends suffer from eating disorders, bringing up the magic elixir I used to love so much would have been insensitive. I didn’t have an eating disorder, I just had my little tricks.
Green tea and lemonade, I’m very grateful and lucky that I don’t think about you much anymore. Ever since I came to college, I fell in love with good food. During quarantine, I discovered a love for cooking and my roommates and I’s nightly food diaries help keep me eating meals I’m proud of. But green tea and lemonade I’m so fucking mad at you I cannot even begin to articulate my feelings.
Green tea and lemonade you consumed so much of my life. You were the last thing I thought about before I went to bed, as I sucked my stomach in as tight as it would go and ran my hands over my torso, hoping there would be no bumps. You were my first wish I would ask for if I ever met a magical being who would give me anything I wanted- “be as skinny as Lauren.” How did that trump a record deal? How did that trump health and happiness for my loved ones? How did that trump superpowers? Why is being skinny more important to me than being able to fly? Why do I remember the tips and tricks to being skinny instead of the math lesson that was taught that day in seventh grade? Why do I still know the ratio of green tea to lemonade to make the recipe Ms. Martin preached?
I hope no child ever learns that recipe again. I hope you die in a hole, green tea and lemonade.
Your old friend,
Me