I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect

Who are you to tell me, that I'm less than what I should be. I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect, mirror mirror, you don't define me, you don't own me. I don't need to listen to the list of what I should do.
-Mirror: Barlow girl.

Reading one of the many blogs I follow, I read this song in today's post. It's actually a pretty well spoken song. A girl arguing with the mirror. It got me to thinking...

I don't battle the insanity of an ED day in and day out for the pure hopes of one day becoming thin, pretty, perfect. I don't do it all so that the mirror can give me a pat on the back and tell me I'm beautiful now that I've lost enough of myself to define me as perfect. I don't know why I do it. And I don't want to do it. At the same time, I have to do it, I have no choice. I'm finding it's not easy to be perfect. The mirror certainly won't know when I'm perfect, it's just an array of particles that shine back your reflection. The mirror doesn't see into your soul, your heart, your spirit. The mirror can suck a fuck for all I care. So can the scales. So can the measuring tapes.

Basically, I've lost my appetite. Completely. I can't even forve myself to eat a celery stick. And I love it.

No, I don't battle this ED so that the mirror can praise me and welcome me to the world of perfection. I do it for the release, the control, the escape. I do it, because I have no other choice. And because if I'm lucky enough to be in the 40% of girls who actually die from this, then I can be set free into a world that does no judge, that does not measure perfection and beauty and magnificance from a mirrored reflection, but seeks deeper into the soul of someone and notices them for them. A world that appreciates that your beauty may not be crafted across your face, or sculpted into your body, but, may echo out through the beat of your heart, and the tick of your mind.
You are not less than what you should be, you don't need to listen to the list of things you should do. Define yourself, love yourself, save yourself. Or you too, will be another number in the 40% of girls who let the mirror, the scales, and the meauring tapes shave away a small part of them each and every day, until in the end, even the beauty on the inside has bled dry too.