I am sat opposite a woman on the tube. She is asleep, wearing a huge coat on this sunny day, legs with nobbled knees and hands with bones of a tiny bird. Her face is defined, but not like that of the models I work with, it is drawn, skin stretched across her face, sallow, hollow, huge dark circles around eyes which I have no doubt, when open, house fear and repugnant self hatred. She holds her emaciated body. Leggings hanging loose. I stare at her, running my hands down my hips. The hips which I have been hating. I sweep my hands across my collar bone, onto my shoulders. Let them rest there. I look back at the woman. Tiny. So much of me has yearned lately for weight loss. Slender body. “Just a bit more toned”. “Just loose a bit of this fat”. “Just slim down those saddle bags”. I remember the freezing cold nights. I remember the terror over every bite. I remember the time lost. I remember the love lost. I remember the power it brought me too, the sense of achievement with every kilo lost. Then I stop myself. Why? Why should I shrink myself, shrink my body, my spirit, my life, demolish my home to nothing? Why should I extinguish the laughter, the ambitions, the dreams? I do not mourn for the anorexic body I once lived in, for the fragile bones and wizened exterior. I miss the days of thin only in the moments I am insecure over my curves, the gentle dip between my hips and my thighs. I am more than the light that can shine between my legs and the power to starve myself. I have taught myself that I am determined. When I set my mind to something I will achieve it. All that dedication should be put to good use. So, sat opposite the cold woman, wrapped up in her coat. I strip off a layer and message my housemate about the dinner we will share. I plan my boxing session the next morning. I read my script. I remember, I am no longer where I once was and I am more than the gravitational pull between myself and the Earth. I am the travels I am planning and the nights of laughter with the grannies, I am the daughter who needs to be strong, I am the actress who will succeed, I am the writer who has finished a play…almost, I am the baker and the cook, I am the friend who people can cry on over a break up, I am the lover, though I don’t always show it, I am the giggler with Mickey, I am the yes woman (sorry Jake), I am learning to say no, I am a sister, I am the confidant. I am dedicated to a life of hedonistic pursuit. I am more than the gap between my legs or the dip where my hips meet me thigh, and that is vital.