I did not belong to a sports team. I was not a member of the high school band, theatre, or art club. I felt pressured to conform to a group. I felt pressured to pretend to be someone I was not so others would like me. I would walk the halls aimlessly, purposelessly, blending in with the shadows of fellow students. However, I wanted to be noticed.

I struggled accepting what I was good at. I was a strong reader, and good at science and French. I loved public speaking and yearned to help others. But I knew none of this would make me popular. So, I decided I was going to be the best at losing weight.

I had little understanding of how nutrition worked, how to workout at the gym and most importantly how to seek help. So, what I refer to as “the domino effect” inevitably occurred. What started off as a simple “diet” turned into an obsession.

My goal was to attract attention from my fellow students. I wanted people to be impressed with my weight loss, I wanted to be congratulated. However, I only seemed to become more invisible.

I would hide under sweatshirts and sweatpants. My head would throb at the thought of daily life activities such as walking downstairs or going to my locker to get my books. The thought of waking up in the morning exhausted me.

Food controlled every waking minute of my life.

It was almost like I had 2 voices battling in my head. The first voice was Sarah, me. This voice wanted to eat, wanted to go to school and enjoy dinner dates with friends. The second voice was much darker and deeper. This voice told me to perform continuous body checks, refuse food and isolate myself. This voice was loud and was winning the war.

My pursuit for popularity resulted in social isolation.

I had built a brick wall between myself and reality.

I wanted no one to notice me. I wanted no one to tell me to stop losing weight. But mentally I refused to listen to my own voice. I neglected my talents. I had perfected the “gentle smile” and “oh no I am fine” look and response. Every day the wall grew taller and thicker, pushing me further toward my eating disorder.

Five years later and the wall is still here; but shorter and thinner. I can see over the wall into reality and life now. I let myself cross over. The dark, deep voice has silenced.

The voice lost the war.

My pursuit for popularity ended when I started to listen to my own voice and embrace the talents I have. Only when I began to embrace my talents did I meet people who encouraged them. Not only that, I met people who encouraged my identity.

My own voice is loud, strong and knows how to fight the darker voice that hides in the shadows.

Everyday I take another brick down from the wall.