Chapter 5: “I stumbled out into the courtyard to try to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us.” ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

The blond teenager walked down the hall of her high school to the oh so familiar classroom. After four years of walking these halls she could probably navigate them with her eyes closed. Her senior year was halfway over and she was eagerly counting down the days until graduation. 

It had been a normal day. Start with morning announcements in the office. She smiled as she thought how her best friend had told her at the end of the previous year that he was shocked that she was elected to be a student body officer. The truth was, she was too. After that it was birthday deliveries. Every person in the school received a note and a candy bar on their birthday. She enjoyed these tasks. Trying to be more friendly and outgoing with those in the school had helped her forget herself and the pain she carried around with her. Each morning she was able to start her day by bringing cheer to a few students in the school and as meaningless as it may seem to deliver a candy bar, it was always uplifting to see how every one in the classroom would send well wishes once they would see who's birthday it was. 

"I wish I could see goodness like that all the time." She thought, still looking at the floor as she walked to her next class. "People are good. I don't see it all the time. Is that because I'm a bad person that only focuses on the negative side of others or because most people just don't like to show me that side of themselves?" 

After birthdays, it was two classes in the morning, lunch, then two classes in the afternoon.
The blond teenager was an average student who constantly told herself that she wasn't smart enough to do any better. Her grades had been perfect from elementary all they way through her first two years of middle school. With each passing year she found it increasingly more difficult to see any good in her, including with regards to her intelligence. 

She had play practice later that night and still needed to go over her lines. Dress rehearsals were always a little bit stressful and though her part wasn't a large role, she wanted to make sure that she could make the rehearsal go as smoothly as possible. People were wandering through the halls on the way to their various classes, some obviously paying no attention to the time limit before the tardy bell would ring. She walked in the door.

"ShaRee! Your hair is so cute!"

The blond teenager had barely walked in the door when Jenny began showering her with compliments about her hair. The girl smiled at the energetic friend she had known since before they knew how to read. Jenny was always so friendly and kind. Besides being an incredibly talented athlete, she also had the rare skill of finding humor in any situation. Her laugh was so contagious. Many were drawn to her because of her optimistic attitude, including the blond. She knew that the compliment was sincere. She had been a little self conscious about her hair all day. It wasn't often that she wore her hair curly. Each morning she spent an embarrassing amount of time painstakingly blow drying and straitening the thick, curly, long blond hair. She could never control the curl, thinking that it looked more like she had been struck by lightening and her hair exploded, but when her friend, Shayla, showed her a new way of doing her hair curly, she decided to give it a try. She was delighted that Jenny had taken the effort to comment in a positive way on the hairstyle that had been making her slightly uneasy all day. 

"You look so good with your hair like that!"

The girl stopped just inside the door and awkwardly listened to the praise. Though the compliments were appreciated, she still hadn't learned how to accept kind comments from others. She opened her mouth to show gratitude, but was cut off.

"I think it makes her look like a whore."

He had been standing at the front of the classroom listening to what was being said to the blond teenager. 

"Do not cry!" she screamed to herself. Time seemed to slow as she tried to process what had just been said about her. "Laugh it off, don't make a scene. Don't you dare cry."

She was unable to take in anything that was going on around her as she attempted to hide her emotions. The conversation ended with Jenny lightheartedly disagreeing with the deliverer of the unkind message and the blond girl found her way to her seat. For the next ninety minutes of class she outwardly participated and did her best to be attentive and work hard, but each minute the words were repeated in her head several times until she finally accepted it is truth.

"I look like a whore."

* * * * * * * * *

The blond young woman allowed her body to get as much rest as it needed the night she got back from tour. As devastated as she was at the discovery that she had gained eight pounds on the ten day trip, she knew that between trying to get over this cold and the physical demands of the tour, her first step in getting back to her weight pre-tour was to let it recover.

Throughout the night and into the next day, she was forced by her bladder to make frequent trips to the bathroom. The young woman couldn't remember a time when she'd had to pee so much. It was somewhat of an annoyance, especially when she so badly wanted and needed to sleep. She didn't understand what was happening, but after her first five trips to the bathroom she decided to weigh herself again. She laughed as she looked down at the numbers. She allowed her forehead to rest against the wall as she continued to stare at the numbers.

"Thank you!" she didn't know who she was saying that to. "It was all water weight. Thank you!" she laughed again as the words left her mouth. 

She left the bathroom feeling less annoyed at the frequent interruptions to her sleep knowing that each trip to the bathroom meant that the numbers would continue to go down.

Once she regained her lost energy from tour, her routine became more rigorous than it had been before. Although it only took a day to get the numbers on the scale back to where she was before ten days of eating as much as was required of her to keep her director and host families happy, she was now haunted by the thought of how much more weight she could have lost had she not gorged herself for ten days. A determination spread through her to lose weight even more quickly than she had been before. She had steadily been going down one and a half to two pounds a day before tour and it didn't matter what she had to do, she was going to make herself lose two to three pounds a day - even if it killed her.

She pulled her workout pants up around her waste. Staring at herself in the mirror, she began tightening the draw string. These are the pants she'd had since high school. She and Jamie referred to them as the "noisy pants" because the fabric made a swooshing noise anytime the legs rubbed against each other. She had been wearing these pants when they recorded the song that Jamie wrote for her music tech class. She remembered how much they had laughed when the teacher kept wondering what kept making the noise while they were recording. After realizing it was her pants, the blond young woman was forced to record her part again, this time with her legs spread as far apart as they could go to prevent the pants from making any noise.

She took note of how the pants were much bigger on her than they used to be. They became her favorite pants to wear while working out because they hid her body so well. The elastic waste on them no longer was tight enough to hold the pants up, and a sense of satisfaction spread through her as she realized how much of the draw string was left hanging after she tightened it as far as it could comfortably go. After inspecting herself some more in the mirror, taking note of what changes she demanded of her body before the week was over, she put on a t-shirt and her senior sweatshirt from last year. This sweatshirt also made her feel more comfortable, not only because it had become so large on her that it hid her shape, but also because the was cold all the time and appreciated all the extra layers of clothing.

The campus felt empty since the semester had ended. She took the familiar route of walking past the duck pond, up behind the browning center so she could look at her reflection in the windows of the professors offices, then continued climbing the stairs up to the gym. She liked walking to the gym so that she had time to plan her workout. She swiped her student card, walked through the doors, and began quickly making her way to the elliptical runners. When Chris had first brought her to this gym months before he had tried to convince her to run with him around the track. She did a few laps and hated it the whole time. The gym was set up so that all of the equipment and half courts were in the center of the large room with the track encircling all of it. She just knew that everyone was looking at the overweight woman trying to run. After two laps she had convinced her friend that maybe they should try something else. That's when he had shown her the ellipticals and from the moment she stepped on them she knew this was something she could get used to. The machine kept track of how many calories she was burning over the course of the hour that she was on it, which always motivated her to push harder and go faster. Most of the time she tried to force herself to look at the TV's while she was running, but found that she usually became obsessed with comparing herself to all the other women that were working out with her.

Most of them were wearing tight pants with a sports bra. She could see every toned muscle and took note of the flat stomachs from all the gorgeous women around her. She hoped that someday she would be able to look like those other women. She allowed her mind to wonder what she would look like if she could be as small or as lean as they were.

You'll never look like that because you keep eating so much food. Didn't you see what you looked like this morning? You haven't been working hard enough to ever be able to be as beautiful as they are. You need to quit eating so much food. You are always stuffing your face. What do you think you're going to look like if you keep doing that? 

She looked down at how many calories she had burned according to the machine. She willed herself to go faster. She hadn't eaten anything since she got back from tour, this was her chance to make up for lost time.

Do you see how they're all staring at you? They are so repulsed by you. It doesn't matter how big your clothes are, they can still tell how fat you are. You aren't fooling anyone. All they see when they look at you is how disgusting and ugly you are. That's all anyone see's. You are nothing.

She continued to push herself harder and harder for the next hour on the treadmill. She slowed it down after she felt like she had done enough and stepped off the machine. For the next hour she lifted weights, fighting off the fear that everyone was judging her. Once she had made it through the two hours, she walked out of the building. This was her favorite part of going to the gym. Inside the building smelled of body odor and machinery, after being inside such a stuffy area it was always refreshing to come outside. She took in a deep breath, noting the fresh scent that accompanies the spring and summer months in Utah. She took her first few steps and noticed how difficult it was to control her legs. Each step down the stairs felt like her legs were going to give out and she quickly grabbed the fence next to her to help steady herself.

"What is happening? I should have more energy after a workout, not less." She paused at the bottom of the stairs, before clumsily making her way past the browning center. Breathing heavier than she had been while at the gym, she forced herself to go faster. Once she made it past the duck pond, her apartment complex was in sight. She kept her eyes on the building until she was safely across the street. Throwing the door open, she ran to her room and collapsed on the floor. "I don't feel good. What is wrong with me?" Closing her eyes so the room would stop spinning, she tried to focus on her breathing. As a singer, she had been very well trained on how to breathe correctly and she could tell that something was wrong. She shouldn't be taking this many breaths. "Breathe deeper. Slow down."
Her body relaxed with each inhale and slow release. She rolled onto her side, feeling like every part of her body weighed more than she could lift or move. Shaking with each movement, she managed to get herself onto her bed, and fell asleep.

* * * * * * * * *

The blond had planned to give herself a week to get things back to normal after the trip before beginning to look for a job. She spent that time working out for hours at a time, sleeping the rest of the day away, and living off of one cup of steamed broccoli a day, unseasoned and with absolutely no butter. She was increasingly more tired and began noticing pains throughout her body.

One day, after an hour and half at the gym, two times through her power ninety workout, and a much needed shower, she made her way back to her room. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and became lost. She stared blankly back at the reflection in front of her. The eyes blinked when she blinked, but the blond in the mirror was unrecognizable yet she knew who it was. Her bottom lip quivered as anger overtook her.

"I hate you!" through gritted teeth, she bitterly threw the words at the ugly young woman in the mirror. "Why do you have to look like that?! Nobody likes you and they are so disgusted by you! Nothing you ever do is going to be enough! I HATE YOU!"

A tear rolled down the pale cheek of the blond in the mirror.

The young woman leaned against her closet door, allowing her body to slowly slide to the floor. For the first time in a long time silence filled her mind. The voice had finally made it's way out into the world, and her mind was silent. She stared blankly, letting tears flow down her face as she sat motionless. For what felt like hours she remained there, hearing nothing but the sound of her infrequent breathing.

* * * * * * * * * 

She had gotten out of bed with the intention of looking for a job. Her life had seemed to slow down since the semester ended. When she was in school she had distractions from what was going on, it was a fight to focus on those distractions, but at least she had them. Now, she was alone - a lot. Each day was getting worse and worse. Her days were measured by workouts, weighing herself, emotional outbursts, and sleeping.

The blond young woman sat on her bed with her keys in her hands. There had been a restlessness in the pit of her stomach for the last several weeks that she'd been unable to get rid of. She moved her body to the floor and commenced a round of crunches as her head became bombarded with discouragement from the voice that had become her constant companion.

Where are you supposed to get a job? No one is going to hire you. You can't even take care of yourself. Look at you. You're a mess. A fat, horrible, mess. You barely made it through the semester. You are a terrible student and you're never going to finish school. Your life is such a waste. You are never going to amount to anything. Everyone is tired of dealing with you. You can't get a job. No one will want to hire you. You are never going to be good enough. You are never going to be pretty enough. You are never going to be anything important. You are useless. Why do you keep pretending that you can fix everything? Just give up.

She stood up and ran out of her room. Moving into the modest kitchen, her breathing had quickened.

You aren't ever going to be anybody. No one wants to deal with you anymore. No one wants to look at you. You are so disgusting. You are awful. Why are you still alive? You have no purpose anyway. You should just give up. You can't do school. You'll never find a job. All you do is cry all the time. Your friends are sick of you. No one loves you. Just quit trying. You are so ugly. It doesn't matter how skinny you get, people are going to still think you are disgusting and ugly. You are an awful person. No one wants you around.

She grabbed the wall and stepped into the living room. Hardly able to catch a breath and fiercely looking for anything to help her out of this hell, the young woman let out an agonizing scream. She fumblingly found her way back to her room.

Just kill yourself. It will be easier for everyone once you're gone. You shouldn't be here anyway. You fail everything you try to do. You can't do school. You aren't smart enough. You aren't talented enough. Your voice is awful. No one wants to listen to it. You don't have anything to offer this world. No one loves you. No one wants you around. Just give up.

"I can't do this anymore!" she yelled into the empty apartment. She grabbed her phone, finding the only contact she knew could help her. She closed her eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths. She couldn't call her in hysterics, but was having a difficult time calming down. The young woman was too overwhelmed to calm down, she would have to force herself to not let the panic come through in her voice. She pushed the button with the small green phone on it, lifted the phone to her ear, and waited. Listening to the ringing on the phone, she thought through what she was going to say when the other person answered, and suddenly became terrified that she would answer.

"Hello?" Hearing the sound of her mothers voice brought her some comfort.

"Mom? I think I need to move home." She knew that even with the effort to sound less panicked her voice had betrayed her.

"ShaRee, what is going on?"

The young woman wanted to scream and cry out to her mother for help. She thought of what she yearned to tell her mother. "Mom, I need you. I am in so much pain and I don't know why. I hate myself and don't want to live anymore. I'm scared and I just feel like I'm constantly being tormented by my own mind. I need you." Instead she began telling her mother that she didn't think that school was for her and that she wanted to move home to figure out what to do.

The blond had never been very good at communicating what was really going on in her head, especially to those she loved most. She would lose her temper and yell, especially with her family, because she was too embarrassed or didn't know how to express what was really bothering her. They never knew how to help her because they never knew what was really wrong with her.

"ShaRee, I've been worried about your eating. Are you sure you're losing weight in a healthy way? I just keep thinking about what your roommates told me when they called."

She thought back to a few weeks before when the incident her mother spoke of had occurred. While the young woman was at the testing center for her history class, her roommates and Chris had called her mother and told her they were concerned that she wasn't eating enough. The young woman had lied to her mother later that night about all the things she had eaten, not knowing that her roommates had talked to her. When she found out, there was a lot of tension in the apartment.

"Mom, it's fine. My eating is fine. I just need to come home." She was becoming impatient with the constant badgering about what she was eating. This was not what she wanted to talk about, especially not right now, and her responses were becoming more agitated and defensive. However, when the conversation concluded, it had been agreed that she would move back to Fillmore for the summer.

After hanging up the phone, the young woman sat back down, letting out a sigh of relief. Her body slumped as she sat on the edge of her twin bed. She ran her fingers along the beautiful quilt her grandmother had made as a gift for her high school graduation. Allowing her body to relax, she lay her head at the foot of the bed, slowly moving her legs up to her chest.

A calmness swept over her as she whispered to herself, "I'm going home."

* * * * * * * * *

The little blond girl lay awake in the unfamiliar bed. Her parents had left her and her siblings at her Grandma and Grandpa Staples house overnight while they were out of town. They loved being in Kanosh with their grandparents. Even though the little girl had spent a lot of time in the basement of this home, it had always been during the day. She looked over to see her sister sound asleep next to her. She was glad she was in the red room, she preferred this room to the one down the hall. The carpet was a red shag, which had been the reason for the nickname assigned to it by all the family. She could see light being reflected off the mirror hanging on the wall, and she became frightened as she imagined what monster was lurking outside causing the light to move. Soon she became more aware of the shadows and hated feeling alone in the dark room. 

She carefully slid off the bed, being careful not to wake her sister. When her bare feet hit the carpet, she paused waiting for hands from whatever was waiting for her under the bed to grab her. Nothing happened. Finding the courage to move her legs, she walked out of the room, passing the bathroom on her right and turned out into the large family room. The little girl became frightened as she thought of what evil awaited her in the large empty room. She moved quickly up the stairs, forcing herself not to look behind her for fear of coming face to face with something that would surely kill her. 

The little girl moved more quickly than she had before, knowing that if she could just make it through the kitchen and dining room, she would be safe. She passed the table, remembering to stay to the left so not to run into the chairs around the table. Taking the last few steps to the door, she let herself calm down. The first bedroom on the right was her key to safety. She silently pushed the door open. Looking to the bed on the left, she saw the outline of the large body sleeping heavily in his bed. She walked around the bed so she could see his face, but decided against waking him up. Just looking into the face of the sleeping man brought her so much comfort. Moving back around to the other side of the bed, she slowly pulled the covers back, revealing the empty space remaining in the bed. She climbed onto the mattress, pulled the sheets over her body, and snuggled as close to her grandfather as she could get. 

All fear left her. 

"I'm safe now," she thought. "Nothing will dare get me now. He'll protect me. I'm safe."

Several seconds passed.

"Grandpa sounds like a bear! He snores so loud!" The little girl giggled to herself as she listened to the roaring sound coming from her beloved Grandpa Staples, snuggled a little closer, and fell asleep.

Chapter 4: “Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.” ― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin

The blond girl pulled at the pink and purple dance costume. She had only a few minutes before going back to the gym floor to perform with the other girls on the dance team and she was desperately trying to get the costume to stop being so tight on her body. No matter what she did the fabric would always snap back into place around her. The panic began to set in as she remembered the conversation with her mother several months before.

"Mom, can I do dance this year?"
"Are you sure? Sometimes the costumes are quite snug."

At the time, the blond girl was worried that her mother didn't want anybody to see her chubby young daughter. Now, as the performance had arrived she realized how well her mother knew her. The blond girl continued to pull and try to stretch the fabric, but it was useless. Every fat roll on her body was about to be displayed in front of hundreds of people.

As she walked out onto the floor she tried her best to hide the embarrassment. She could feel all the eyes in the audience on her and she just knew that everyone was disgusted with the fat blond girl in the tight costume. The music began and she started to do the dance moves the way she had been taught, but then she realized that if she moved then all of her extra weight would jiggle and everyone would see it. She kept pushing herself to perform the dance, but tried to make the movements smaller. She willed herself not to cry and silently prayed that it would be over soon. 

The blond girl, who had wanted so badly to be able to perform and dance, went home that night and knew she would never be a dancer. She was just too fat and ugly. She climbed under the covers, buried her head in her pillow, and allowed her thoughts to tell their usual bedtime story of what an awful, horrible, ugly, fat, untalented little blond girl she was. 

* * * * * * * * *

I neatly folded the blue polo shirt and stacked it on top of the red t-shirt with "Ogden LDS Institute" printed in white letters across the front. I looked at everything I had packed and double checked that I hadn't forgotten anything. The semester had finally come to an end. I somehow managed to survive my finals, though I don't know how I was able to pass any of them. It had been a challenging semester and I was ready to go on the choir tour that the Choralaires had been working toward for months. I had been looking forward to this tour, until about a week before we were to leave.

"You do realize that you're going to have to eat while you're on tour, right?" Chris wouldn't be going on tour because of work.

"I'll figure it out. I think I can find ways to get out of it." I said, frustrated that I was having this conversation again.

"ShaRee, you're going to be sight seeing all day long and performing every night. You need to eat. You're also going to be staying with families who are going to be serving you meals. You can't just turn down their kindness."

As I looked into his face I had a hard time reading his emotion. Was it concern? It couldn't be concern. I wasn't doing anything wrong. The therapist had said I didn't have an eating disorder. Why was he telling me this?

"I'll figure it out." I said, just wanting the uneasiness to be over.

That moment played in my head as I sat near the suitcase. I would be flying out in the morning to go to the Carolina's and I was already having anxiety over eating and food due to the girl's weekend I'd had with my mom and sisters in Orem.  My mom had begun to be suspicious of what was really going on with me, yet I still felt an overwhelming need to continue to hide it from her and the rest of the family. My mom, my older sister, my younger sister Heather, and I had so much fun together, but the thought of the chicken chimichanga I had eaten made me sick. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them and began to rock back and forth as I remembered the yellow cake with white frosting. A year previous it had been the cake served at my older sister's wedding reception. We had taken the frozen top layer out over our girls weekend, and I ate a slice. Why had I eaten a slice?! I rocked back and forth, trying desperately not to have a break down.

"The bathroom is free if you want to go get ready for bed." Jamie said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

A few months earlier, as we were preparing for tour, we were informed that we would have to pick a partner to share a suitcase with, which meant that we would also be staying at the homes of the host families together. They would essentially be our roommates for tour. I had no idea who I was supposed to ask. I had spent most of the semester hiding behind Chris. I looked around the choir room and realized that I hadn't spent a lot of time talking with any of the people in the room, convinced that none of them would want to be friends with me and paranoid that they were all disgusted with my size. How was I supposed to approach any of them?

"ShaRee? Have you found a suitcase partner yet?"

I turned around to see Jamie Nielsen. She was a few inches shorter than me and had the most beautiful, long, thick black hair that I'd ever seen. She was also a music major and we'd been in a few classes together, but had never really talked.

"No. Have you?"

"No, would you wanna be my suitcase partner? I even have a suitcase we can use."

"Yeah! That would be great!"

Since that day we had been spending more time getting to know each other before tour and had started becoming good friends. For her music technology class, she was required to write and record a song and asked me to sing the duet with her on the recording. She even altered my dress for me when it became apparent that the skirt was no longer going to stay up on my ever shrinking body. I found that I enjoyed having a friend in my life that wasn't wrapped up in my eating habits and questioning me about it all the time. It was refreshing.

Now, the night before tour, here I was sitting on her bedroom floor trying to hide the battle being waged in my head.

"Ok, thanks Jamie."

I grabbed what I needed and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I took a second to take a deep breath before walking to the mirror. I stared at myself, taking my time to inspect every inch of my body, taking note of any changes that had happened. My stomach looked bigger, and with each moment I looked at it I began to let the fear take over.

See, this is what happens when you eat food! Look at how big you got after two days of eating. You are never going to be able to fit into your pants for tour. Everyone is going to notice that you ate all that food. They'll think you are even more disgusting. Look what you did!

I had just gone down another pant size and was excited when I went to the store to buy a couple of new pair of pants. Jamie and I had joked about my "saggy bum pants" that were currently hanging off of me. What if I couldn't fit into the smaller size because I had eaten that piece of cake?! Knowing I had to get up early, I gave up trying to will my stomach to be smaller and walked back into Jamie's room.

We talked about the schedule for the following day and then went to bed. I lay on my makeshift bed on Jamie's floor and silently prayed that I would be able to fit into my pants. I pleaded for my Father in Heaven to help me lose weight and promised Him that I would never eat like that again. When I finished my prayer I stared at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. A pattern I was now extremely familiar with. I continued to listen to my thoughts tell me how ugly I was, when a new worry set in. The scratchiness in my throat from the day before was beginning to turn into an aching lump. I closed my eyes tight and whispered over and over again, "Please don't let me get sick. Please don't let me get sick." I was convinced this was happening because I had eaten food. I hadn't been sick all semester until now, a day after I had eaten food. It couldn't be a coincidence.

* * * * * * * * * 

I marveled at how green everything was in South Carolina. I had woken up with a sore throat and immediately started taking vitamin C. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I was hoping that even just a little bit would help it from worsening. Our flight had gone smoothly, and we were now on our bus heading toward the church building where we were to meet our first host family.

It felt good after a long day of flying to get off the bus and stretch my legs. There was a lot of confusion as everyone unloaded suitcases and tried to track down their host families. Jamie and I found the woman holding our number and introductions were quickly made. Her accent was so charming that I found myself just wanting to listen to every word she was saying. Jamie did an excellent job of keeping the conversation going and helping us all get acquainted and comfortable with each other. We turned into a beautiful gated community and pulled up to the most gorgeous red brick home with tall, ornate pillars framing the front door. It was a house like those I had only seen in the movies.

"My husband wanted to come home and get dinner started for you, that's why he couldn't come pick you up with me."

"So, what does your husband do for a living?" I asked as we pulled into the garage. I was curious what someone had to do to own such a lovely home, but I also just wanted to keep her talking to hear her accent.

"He is a lawyer. We also have a daughter. You might get to meet her tonight, but she kind of likes to keep to herself."

We grabbed all of our belongings from the SUV and walked into the kitchen. I immediately smelled the familiar scent of meat on a grill. The anxiety snapped me out of this dream I had apparently walked into. A second before I had been enjoying the green South Carolina landscape, charming accents, and the wonder of seeing such a grand home and now I was back into my cage of food, weight, and fear. How was I going to get out of this meal? How could I lose more weight? How much exercising could I do? My thoughts were spinning when I heard a door open and looked over to see a man wearing a suit and an apron walking toward us. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. He was a man whose stature wasn't quite as big as his personality. What his wife offered in gentility and sweetness he balanced out with humor and bluntness.

"What do all ya'all call that?" he asked, gesturing to where his grill was currently cooking the round slabs of ground beef.

Jamie and I looked at each other in slight confusion. Not completely sure what he was asking.

"What do you call a meal that consists of grilled hamburgers?" he seemed anxious for us to answer and had a slight smirk on his face.

"A barbecue?" Jamie answered, almost timidly, not quite sure why he was asking such a bizarre question.

"Wrong! That is not 'a barbecue', that is called cooking out. I'm grilling the food. It's a cook out. Ya'all don't know what real barbecue is, but it isn't what we're having tonight. So from now on, when you have parties where people bring food to cook on a grill, stop referring to it is a barbecue. You're having a cook out!"

Jamie and I started to laugh as we realized that we had just been lectured by a true southerner on something that we Utahns had clearly been getting wrong our whole lives. I wasn't sure what "real barbecue" was, but I had clearly never had it and he wanted to make sure that we fixed our mistake. We readily apologized for our offensive mistake and were shown to the room where we would be staying so that we could get settled before dinner.

"Jamie, this place is so nice!" we looked around the room and took the opportunity to relax and visit for a minute while we were alone.

"I know. And did you notice that they had full house stairs?"

"They have what?"

"You know! The stairs like on Full House. The kind that go up in one room and come down in another."

I started to laugh as it dawned on me what she was saying.

"Oh yeah, I did notice that. That is so funny that you call it that." I grabbed my bottle of vitamin C and popped another tablet in my mouth.

"Are you feeling any better?" She had been the one that suggested the vitamins when I told her I felt a cold coming on.

"Yeah, a little I guess. I don't feel any worse, so maybe this'll be as bad as it gets. Maybe after I get a good nights rest I'll feel better. It's just been a long day and I didn't get a ton of sleep last night."

"I hear ya. Hey, we better get down there for dinner."

My mind was racing for any way to get out of the meal without being rude, but Chris was right. I couldn't offend these people who were being so kind to me and we had been instructed to be extremely courteous to our host families. I started to rub my hands together nervously as I stood up from the bed and followed Jamie down for dinner.

* * * * * * * * *

"I just can't believe how green everything is."

After dinner they offered to take us on a tour of Columbia. I was excited to get out and see more of South Carolina, and be distracted from the mess inside my head. Unfortunately, the distraction part never came. Just more opportunity for stress and negative thoughts. When we got out of the vehicle I found myself staring at a sign that said Cold Stone. I had never heard of it, but it was apparent that it was an ice cream shop of some sort. I scratched my arm several times and followed the group into shop. The smell of waffle cones immediately overwhelmed me. It smelled so good, but I wanted to scream. I was frustrated and didn't know how to escape the situation. I didn't want to make a scene, but I also wanted to run out of there as fast as I could. No more food! I didn't want anymore. 

"I love this place! It is so good. Have you ever been here before? What are you going to get?" Jamie's words brought me back to reality.

"Uh, no. I've never been here. I don't know what to get, but maybe I just won't have any. I'm still pretty full from dinner."

"Of course you're having some! You've never had it before and we're offering you some, so you're going to have some." I smiled at my "host dad" as his larger than life personality came into our conversation. I was beginning to see how he was such a successful lawyer. "Now, do you want some recommendations or have you decided what you want."

I followed Jamie's lead as she picked an ice cream flavor and a treat to have mixed in with it. I spent a lot of time stirring the ice cream around and slowly taking small bites, trying to please the family who had paid for it, but also trying not to eat very much of it. Conversations were happening around me, yet I had no idea what was being said. I kept a pleasant smile on my face, trying to hide the war being waged within. 

We all piled back into the SUV and continued our tour. As the sun was getting closer to setting, we pulled in front of the building I recognized immediately. Though I had never been to this particular location, there is no mistaking when you are looking at a temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The immaculately kept landscaping surrounded the white building. Though it wasn't as big as the temples I was used to seeing in Utah, it's majesty was not diminished in the least. I marveled at how even the outside of a building can show so much power, reverence, and beauty; it glows, almost as if to let those who see it know the incredible work being done on the inside. We drove away from the temple and I turned my head to get one last glimpse.

We received quite the tour of the city, full of commentary from our host family who had lived there many years. That's when I realized I couldn't wait any longer. The water I had been drinking all day to hopefully help me get over my cold, had led to an intense feeling of needing to go the bathroom. It hit rather suddenly, but I convinced myself that I could hold it until we got back to the house. Once it became clear that this tour was going to outlast my bladder, I came to the conclusion that the situation had reached emergency status and action needed to be taken. 

"Would it be possible for us to stop somewhere so I can use the restroom?" 

"We were just at Cold Stone! Why didn't you go when we were there?!" His words sounded just like the lectures that so many young children had received from their parents. Jamie and I gave a little laugh, but I wasn't ready to give up yet.

"That was forever ago! I've been holding it for a long time as it is." I smiled as I gave it the best whiny teenager sound to add to the humor of the situation.

"Well, you're just going to have to hold it a lot longer, because we're not stopping." 

I'm sure he expected this to be the final word on the matter, but I was in pain and knew I wouldn't hold out much longer. I had to give it one more shot. 

"These seats sure look nice. What is this? Leather?" I asked, giving the seats a gentle caress. I looked up to notice him looking at me in the rear view mirror and I raised my eyebrows at him.

I knew he had understood my threat by the way he slammed on his breaks, made an illegal u-turn, and pulled into the nearest convenience store. Jamie was roaring with laughter the whole time. All the women got out of the car and made our way to the restroom, laughing all the way.

* * * * * * * * *

More crunches. You need to do more crunches. You are so disgusting. You probably gained ten pounds today. You should have tried harder to get out of eating that food. What a horrible disgusting pig! You need to find a way to fix this. You are so fat. Everyone is going to be able to tell how much you've eaten. Work out more. You better fix this. why are you so disgusting?

I continued to do crunches, pilates, squats, running in place, and any other exercise I could think of while Jamie was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Sitting alone in the room was too much. I took note of how my pajamas were fitting on my body. I began to breathe quickly and tears welled up in my eyes as my hands shakily moved across my stomach and felt how much bigger it felt than it had before my girls weekend. I got back down on the ground and began another set of crunches.

"What are you doing?" Jamie walked back into the room with a light hearted laugh. I mustered up a half smile as I continued to do the only thing keeping the stress under control.

"How many calories do you think was in that ice cream?" I couldn't hold back the desperation in my voice, but hoped she didn't notice.

"I don't know. Maybe a few hundred? Are you ok?" She must have noticed the look of terror on my face as she gave her best guess as to how many calories were in the ice cream. My head was spinning as I tried to think through what I would need to do to burn all of that off. 

"Yeah, I have just broken a lot of my diet rules in the last two days and it's kind of stressing me out. I need to be better tomorrow. I'm probably going to need to work out a lot every night."

"Ok." She looked at me, seeming almost unsure of how to react. "Are you almost done? Do you think we need to go say goodnight?"

"I guess we should." I rolled onto my stomach to stretch my core after finishing another 100 crunches. I lay on the ground as I finished, realizing just how exhausted I was from the days adventures. 

"Hey, let's go down the full house stairs when we go to say goodnight to them." We both started laughing at how ridiculous we were, but I was secretly excited to down the other set of stairs as well.

We started down the hallway in the opposite direction we had taken to get to the room. My thoughts were on what kind of things I could say to the wonderful host family as we approached the stairs, glad that I had thought to put socks on my freezing feet. My right foot stepped down on the first step and my stomach turned as I felt my foot slip forward. I continued to slide down the stairs in the most unbecoming fashion. By the time I was able to grab hold of something and bring myself to a stop, I was almost at the bottom. I was clinging desperately to the railing and tried to make sense of what just happened. My right leg was stretched out below me, pain screaming from my shins. My left leg was directly behind me in an awkward position due to the upward slant of the stairs. The last time I had done splits was as a young child on the dance team. All the exercising and stretching I'd been doing over the last few months had not prepared me for the pain my body was experiencing after being forced to do the splits on some newly polished hard wood stairs. 

I continued to quickly assess the damage, looking to Jamie for help, only to see her sitting at the top of the stairs laughing uncontrollably. I think it was at that moment that I knew we were going to be good friends. I simultaneously wanted to slap her for being a jerk and hug her for helping me see the humor of my awkward moment. I started to laugh right along with her. We heard our host mother come rushing around the corner.

"I've gotta go! Someone just fell down my stairs!" She appeared at the bottom of the stairs, pulling her black cordless phone away from her ear. Hearing her exclamation to her friend on the other line screamed out in her southern accent started another round of laughing fits from both Jamie and I. I clumsily found a way to get both of my legs facing the same direction, pulled myself into a standing position, and carefully hobbled down the last few steps; doubling over in laughter once I reached the bottom.

"Are you ok?!" Our host mother had clearly not reached the point of seeing the humor of the situation. So I collected myself enough to splutter out the embarrassing story of how I took a very quick trip down their full house stairs. We all giggled our good nights to each other and decided against trying to make the trek up the stairs of death, opting instead for the safe carpeted stairs.

That night, as Jamie and I lay in bed, we talked a lot and laughed even more. We discussed many things and found that we had more in common than we had originally thought. Both of us were a little bit shy, so we decided to make a goal to help each other come out of our shells. This tour was going to be a turning point for both of us. We talked late into the night until our exhaustion overcame us. I smiled as my eyes finally stopped fighting to stay open. It had been a long time since I'd laughed this much. I tried to picture what I looked like falling down those stairs. Giving a quiet laugh, I rolled onto my side and drifted off to sleep.

* * * * * * * * *

The hot water felt good on my exhausted body. The few hours of sleep I'd had, though restful, weren't enough. I knew the instant I woke up that something was wrong. I hoped that a hot shower would remedy the problem. I breathed in the steam deeply, realizing that it was no use. My voice was gone.

I finished getting ready and walked back into the bedroom. I explained to Jamie what was wrong through a series of whispers and squeaks.

"Maybe it'll get better as the day goes on." Her cheerful attitude made me more hopeful than I had been.

"Yeah, maybe. What use am I going to be on a choir tour if I don't have any voice?" I could hardly get sound out to talk, I didn't even want to know what I sounded like when I tried to sing.

We hauled all of our luggage down the stairs. I knew what was waiting for us and I tried to think up excuses. I had been trying to think up excuses all morning. I looked at the cereal on the counter. I poured some milk over the frosted mini wheats and began stirring. I took a few bites, angry that I was doing so. I made some excuse about not having much of an appetite and we got in the car to go to the rendezvous before traveling to Charleston.

Each step I took reminded me of my graceful fall down the stairs the night before. My right leg ached from ankle to thigh. Lately, any small bump on the skin was causing bruises that had a hard time healing, so I anticipated that this newly forming bruise was going to be large and not go away for a very long time. Walking around Charleston was amazing. The slave markets, the brightly colored houses, and the history of the city all offered so much for me to take in.

Every stop we made gave me no option but to fall in love with the south. The people were so endearing and were always so kind and welcoming. The beautiful, old buildings surrounded by the green landscape mixed with brightly colored flowers created a feast for the eyes. I never wanted to leave. We followed this same schedule every day: get on the bus, go to a tourist destination in a new city, sight see, do random performances for people we met on the street, put on a full length show every night, meet our new host family, go to their home and sleep, wake up and start over again. Each day I woke up more exhausted than the day before, yet excited to see what the day would bring. I also began to love getting to know each new host family. Jamie and I had so much fun staying with the kind members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

"Do you want to see our pet hamsters?" The young girls were so excited to have us in their small home. They had been at our performance and the entire family seemed so happy to have two young women from Utah join them for the evening.

"Sure." Jamie was so good at finding common ground with the families and showing so much interest in whatever they wanted to share with us. I tried to follow her example, but sometimes it was just a bit too much for me. The girls led us to their room to show us the cage where they kept their hamsters.

"We breed them." The oldest of the girls enthusiastically told us.

"Wow! That's cool." I was so glad that she was able to be so interested. All I could manage was a half smile and a barely audible "hmmm" as I bent down to feign interest in the little creatures that reminded me too much of mice.

"That ones eyes are red because it's mom and dad are brother and sister."

My eyes popped open as I looked at the tiny hamster with the flaming red eyes. I looked at Jamie as she offered some sort of remark, but could tell she was just as in shock as I was. She was doing a much better job of hiding her laughter than I was. I turned my head and covered my mouth, but it was no use.

* * * * * * * * *

I didn't want to see our time in South Carolina end. So many wonderful and fun things had happened there and I knew I would miss being there as we made our way to North Carolina. Each night that I was unable to sing in a performance became more and more frustrating. I began feeling that I shouldn't have even come. What difference was I even making? I wasn't contributing to the performances in anyway. All I could do was mouth the words. And on top of it all, I was having to eat way more food than I was comfortable with. I was able to witness so many beautiful miracles, which made me happy. However, being unable to be a part of everything was breaking my heart. I wanted to feel like I was bearing testimony of the Savior, His atonement, and the gospel through song. Instead I was lip synching and watching everyone else doing all the work.

* * * * * * * * *

The amount of sleep I got was never enough. Though the morning was bright and cheerful, my attitude was not. I was exhausted. I didn't want to sight see anymore, I just wanted to sleep. I was contemplating asking permission to stay on the bus and sleep instead of touring the Airborne Museum in Fayetteville, North Carolina, when I heard an excited shout from Jaron, one of the other choir members. Looking out the window to my left I noticed a group of soldiers all standing at attention. Some were American, but there were many more that were obviously from somewhere else.

"They're Korean!!" Jaron could hardly contain himself. He had served his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in South Korea. Spending two years serving the people of that nation had obviously left a lasting impression on him. He was off the bus and running before the rest of us were even out of our seats. 

We were all smiling and laughing at Jaron's reaction. I pulled myself up out of the bus seat that I was getting used to spending so much time in. Positive that I wouldn't enjoy myself due to being tired and sick, I forced myself off the bus and made my way into the museum. Jamie and I walked around looking at everything there was to see and experience. I found that the more I interacted with others and moved around the less I seemed to notice my exhaustion. I love learning about history and the Airborne Museum had plenty to offer. Every once in a while we would see some Korean soldiers walking around with Jaron. It was fascinating to hear him speaking their native language. The tour guide told us how the soldiers were in America training with our paratroopers and as the tour went on I noticed a sense of excitement spreading.

Word finally reached us that our director had decided that we were going to put on an impromptu performance for the visiting soldiers. As the theme of our show was based on patriotism, it seemed fitting. However, we decided to sing one more song that we hadn't prepared for our show at all. We started by singing a medley of the hymns from the different branches of the U.S. military. It was always amazing to see how much people enjoyed to hear the songs that were so familiar to them and brought such a sense of pride for those that fight for our freedom, but it was the unplanned song that changed everyone's lives that day. 

The song we chose was familiar to all of us in the choir, and is extremely well known to all members of the church. It was decided that we would all sing the first verse together, but that we would gently hum the second verse while Jaron sang the words in Korean. As we started, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. After all this was a song that we had sung since we were old enough to speak.

I am a child of God and He has sent me here,
Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear

As with every other performance we'd done, I had tried the best I could to make any kind of sound. I was managing a few whispered notes, but not much else. We continued:

Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.

Though we hadn't practiced this song previously, I noticed how the children's song we all adored sounded particularly beautiful with the unified voices of everyone in the choir. The large atrium in which we were singing seemed to take the sound and magnify it all around the room. There was such a reverence felt in the room, and as we started into the second verse no one was prepared for what would happen. We quietly hummed and Jaron's beautiful tenor voice began singing out the familiar words in Korean.

I am a child of God, and so my needs are great;
Help me to understand His words before it grows too late
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.

From the very beginning of the verse, a feeling spread around the room. It was so powerful and strong. My bottom lip began to quiver and what little sound I was making was choked by the unexpected tears of joy. I looked to the soldiers standing on the other side of the atrium and noticed tears streaming down all of their faces as well. The feeling of love in that room was undeniable. Understanding the meaning of the words helped us all to know the truthfulness of the message we were trying to spread. As we all joined in on the third and final verse, I realized that I didn't want this moment to end. 

I am a child of God. Rich blessings are in store;
If I but learn to do His will, I'll live with him once more.
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.

The final note echoed into silence and no one moved. No one wanted to interrupt the spirit that was with us testifying of our Saviors love for us. The general stepped forward and began speaking. Jaron translated his words for us.

"Thank you for sharing with us such heavenly and angelic music. We came here to train with your country, and after hearing this I now know that we can trust you."

He then proceeded to award Jaron and our director with medals from their country. After we were done with all of this we visited with the foreign guests. It was incredible to hear stories of how some of them wanted to contact our missionaries as soon as they got home, or explained how they had never felt the way that they had felt that day and wanted to know what it was. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched friendships being made and love being shared between people from different sides of the world who didn't fully understand each other through the spoken language. 

Earlier that morning I had to force myself to get off the bus, but as we were instructed that we had to go to our next performance destination I had to force myself to leave the museum. I hoped that I could keep this feeling with me for the rest of the day.

That night the thoughts began again. What should have been such a highlight from the day was quickly taken away by my thoughts.

You didn't even contribute to what happened today. Nothing that you're doing on this tour is helping. Your voice is the only thing that makes you worth anything and you don't have that right now. You're useless. It's because you are eating so much food. Why did you even come. No one wants you here. You're just wasted space. You are worthless. You are useless. 

I silently began praying: "Heavenly Father please help me. Why am I on this tour? I've been looking forward to this all semester, I don't want to leave here feeling like I didn't have a purpose here. Please let me be of some use. I am so grateful to be here and witness everything that is going on, but I want to contribute, not just see everyone else doing all the work. Please let me share my testimony. Please help me get my voice back. Please."

* * * * * * * * *

Tour continued and I pushed myself to keep doing what I could. Jamie and I definitely started to come out of our shells more. I dare say that some may even referred to us as 'obnoxious'. But after a life time of feeling like I couldn't really come out of my shell, it felt good to let my carefree side show it's lovely face for a bit. The bruise on my leg had turned a deep blue and was still tender to the touch. Each step caused a slight pain that made me smile remembering how I'd received the giant, painful discoloration on my skin. Jamie constantly had me laughing. Especially the night I met her dad.

Jamie had received permission to spend one of the nights of tour at her fathers house instead of with a host family. Since he lived in North Carolina it was a fun chance for her to spend time with him. After our performance, we went back to his place. I was so ready for bed. We would be sleeping in her little sisters room. He had so kindly set up an extra mattress up on the floor, which Jamie offered to take so that I could have the twin bed. It was a comfortable bed, with a single sheet covering it. I curled up and began trying to fall asleep, but the air conditioning was blowing right on me and the sheet wasn't enough to warm my body. I didn't want to wake Jamie up. I could tell by her breathing that she was sound asleep, but I couldn't take the shivering any longer.

"Jamie." I whispered it as gently as I could. No movement.

"Jamie." I tried to be a little bit louder. Nothing.

I reached over the edge of the bed and gently tapped on her shoulder as I said her name one more time.

"Hmmm?" Her groggy response was music to my ears. I was finally going to get warmth.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, but I am freezing. Do you have an extra blanket somewhere that I can have?

Her reply wasn't quite what I was expecting from the kind and caring person I'd come to know over the last week and a half.

"The only blanket I have is the one I'm using!" Her annoyed tone of voice reminded me of the way mean girls talk to their victims. Once she finished her speaking, she rolled over and quickly went back to sleep. I stared at her, stunned by the way she had just talked to me. I was kind of hurt by the way she treated me. I wrapped the sheet as tightly around my body as I could, then curled up in a ball, hoping that sleep would somehow find it's way to me that night.

"Did you sleep alright last night?" I couldn't believe she was seriously asking how I slept.

"Um, not really. I was kind of cold." 

"Why didn't you ask for another blanket?"She seemed surprised that I hadn't thought to do that. I was so confused.

"Jamie, I did. You got snippy with me and told me the only one you had was the one you were using." 

"I don't remember this AT ALL!" She couldn't contain her laughing.

"You mean you were talking in your sleep?! You have got to be kidding me!" I was laughing now as well.

"Just so you know, you're kind of a jerk when you sleep talk."

We laughed about that one all day long. We also ended up with the most entertaining woman I have ever met in my life as a host mom. She was a single woman and was obviously so excited to have us be in her home. Two other girls in our choir were staying with one of her neighbors and she invited them over to get in her hot tub. I hadn't even packed a swimming suit. There was no way that I was ever going to let anyone see just how huge I was. The thought terrified me. I sat on a chair just outside the hot tub while everyone else enjoyed the hot water. 

"Do ya know what? What do all ya'all think of Tom Cruise? I think he is just drippin'!"

We busted out in a chorus of laughter. None of us had ever heard such a phrase. What does that even mean? She was just so friendly and said whatever came to her mind. I wished that I could be like her. She just seemed so down to earth and didn't care what others thought of her. She was who she was and she didn't apologize for it. I think that's what made her so charming, in her own unique way. She had water beds for us. I was so excited. I had never slept on a water bed, but had often wished I could've when I was a child. I sat down on the bed and looked around the room. That's when I spotted the most peculiar thing. My laughter turned to a wheeze as I quickly went to the room next door to find Jamie.

"Hey, you have to come take a picture of this. You won't believe it."

"What is it?"

"Just come and see."

I guided her back to my room, took the item off the shelf and modeled it for Jamie, just the way the girls on The Price is Right do.

"White Trash Soap. Where do people come up with the stuff?!"

Jamie snapped a picture and we started giggling as we discussed all of the fun things that our host mom had said and done. The next morning she gave each of us a sack lunch. A giant sack lunch. She obviously wanted to make sure that we were well fed. Even the way she packed our lunch and the things she put in it reflected her personality. She even put a keychain in there for us that had the state bird on it. Our host families really taught me a lot about seeing the good in people and how it's possible to love others so quickly. Her kindness reflected the way that we had been treated by all of our host families. It was beautiful.

* * * * * * * * * 

The tour had come to an end. It was an exhausting yet spiritually uplifting experience. I had been able to visit so many wonderful places: the Biltmore Estate, the Mansfield Plantation, and Fort Sumter. I had so much fun making friends with those in the choir and on the dance team and being able to meet so many incredible people who were willing to take us into there homes. Over all it had been a wonderful experience.

On the bus ride back to the airport I stared out the window. There was still the nagging feeling that I was unable to be of any use throughout tour. I hadn't been a missionary and witnessed of the truthfulness of the gospel. I hadn't been able to use my talent at all. Though my voice had begun to return slightly I was only able to sing a few songs for our final performance. I was saddened that I couldn't have done more. I tried to think of other reasons that I was supposed to come on tour. I found comfort knowing that I had found such a good friend. Jamie and I hardly knew each other at the beginning of the semester, but by the end of tour we knew so much about each other and had helped each other be outgoing and create a fun environment for others. I really was so grateful that I'd been able to meet her because of tour. It was a good reason to come on tour, but it still didn't help get rid of the nagging feeling that I was useless.

* * * * * * * * *

We pulled into the rest area to stretch our legs. Even though I didn't have a need to go to the bathroom I figured that I'd better go anyway since we still had a two hour drive to the airport. It felt good to get off the bus and walk around. I made my way to the bathroom and was surprised that there weren't more of us fighting to get in. There were only a couple of the choir members in the bathroom when I heard to women talking loudly as they entered. 

"Look at all those young people! Where do you think they're from?"

"I don't know, but look - they're all wearing the same shirts. I wonder if they're doing a tour of some sort."

"I smiled as they turned the corner to see me standing there washing my hands.

"We're from Utah." I smiled at them.

"Oh really? What're you all doing here?" They seemed so interested in us that I kind of chuckled as I began to explain what we were doing here.

"We're actually on our way home. We're a group of performers from the Ogden LDS Institute of Religion. We've been out here touring for the last ten days." It is usually so difficult for me to talk to strangers, but this was different. I had given this same introduction a few other times while on tour, but I was never by myself. When I started feeling awkward there was always someone else to carry the conversation. This time I was alone, but I didn't start getting that uncomfortable feeling.

"What kind of performers? What's the LDS Institute of Religion?" I couldn't believe they were this interested.

"Most of our group are choir members, but we also have a few members of the folk dance team with us. The LDS institute of religion is like a school for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints. Many of us are going to college at Weber State University so it's nice when we can go to the institute and take classes to learn more about the Savior. This choir and folk dance team are part of the institute. Have you ever heard of our church?" I had never been so bold about talking about my religion with strangers. 

"No, I don't think we have. So you guys are a choir, huh? Would you be willing to sing a song for us?" 

"Of course! Just let me go get everyone together and talk to our director." 

"Really? Oh that would be so wonderful. We're just going to use the restroom. Don't start without us!"

"Haha, we won't."

I quickly walked out and told the story of meeting these two women in the bathroom to our director. The choir was excited to have one last chance to perform. Someone ran back to the bus to see if there were any copies of The Book of Mormon left to give to these two women. Amazingly, there were exactly two copies left, with only two pass along cards. The choir had begun singing as one of the dancers handed me the books. He excitedly told me that these were the last two copies we had left. A small tear came to my eye. I smiled as I looked down at the books that contained so much truth and light. I walked over to the women after the performance. 

"That was just wonderful! Your choir is so good. Thank you for singing for us, even if it is at a rest stop."

We all laughed.

"It was our pleasure. As I was telling you before, we are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I wanted to give you both a copy of the Book of Mormon. This book is a sacred record that testifies of the love our Savior has for us and the hope that His atonement brings to all of us." I couldn't stop smiling. "I just wanted to testify to you that I know that the things contained in this book are true. That the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and will bring us everlasting joy."

"Oh you are such a sweet girl. Thank you, thank you for sharing that with us. Will you put your name and phone number in our books? You are just so sweet. We are so glad we met you!" They were hugging me and we were all crying at this point. We said our goodbyes and as I was walking back to the bus everyone in the choir came and gave me a hug. Many of them knew I was frustrated that I wasn't able to spread the gospel through singing. 

On the drive to the airport I said another prayer thanking my Father in Heaven for this beautiful tender mercy. I may not have been able to use my singing voice, but He had taught me that I don't always need to sing to use my voice. I was so grateful that I had been given this opportunity. I realized why I was supposed to come on this tour. In addition to meeting Jamie, I needed to meet these two women. At that moment I knew that my prayers were heard and that I was loved. In retrospect, that moment needed to happen. I needed to feel that love and know that He was mindful of me. I think I was given that moment because He knew what was coming.

* * * * * * * * *

I dragged my tired body into the quiet apartment. It was so late and it had been a long day. I opened the door to my bedroom, dumped all of my stuff on the floor, changed into my pajamas, and walked to the bathroom. I switched the light on and closed the door behind me. I looked to the floor and saw it sitting there waiting for me. I had gone ten days without weighing myself. Ten exhausting, frustrating, food filled days. All thoughts of friendship were gone. All thoughts of spiritual experiences were fading. I had to know. I stepped on the scale, lifted my posture, and stared directly at the wall in front of me. It was my ritual. I didn't like to see the electronic numbers jumping all over the place. I stared at the wall a few seconds then took a deep breath. 

"No. No! No! NO!" My body fell to the ground. I was on my knees in front of scale. I wrapped my arms around my head and began rocking back and forth as the sobs overcame me. 

Look at how much you gained! You are so disgusting. You shouldn't have gone on that tour! Nothing good came of it. You just became the disgusting, fat, slob that you are. How could you have let yourself gain eight pounds?! No one gains that much in ten days. Look at how ugly you are. All you did was eat the whole time. You shouldn't have been eating. Everyone saw what a pig you are. Every time you put food in your mouth people thought about how disgusting you are. You don't deserve to eat. Look what happens when you do. You are so ugly! Eight pounds! You are seriously so disgusting. You are worthless.

* * * * * * * * *

The blond young woman sat on the twin bed she'd been assigned. 

"How long have I been here?" she thought to herself as she looked around the room. 

She stared at the space she'd been given for her clothes as the sounds of her roommate getting ready for bed shook her out of her thoughts. The shoes she'd had to buy before coming here caught her attention. No shoe laces. 

"How did I get here?"

She opened her journal to the next available page. She read her entry from the night before before writing the days date at the top of the page. July 24, 2004.

"Ten days. I've been here ten days."

That date used to be a day of fun and celebration for the blond young woman. Her family would gather at her grandparents house to celebrate Pioneer day. The day the pioneers reached the Salt Lake Valley. That didn't even cross the girls mind on this day. It was only used as a day to count her time in this place.

July 24, 2004
I don't even know what to write about. Today was just so weird. My family came. It went better than expected. I got to see Eric, which cheered me up immensely. He is so cute. I haven't been doing too well with my body image. Things are kind of mixed up right now. Triggers are all over. I hate food. Sometimes I just want to throw it at the wall. I got more mail. Jamie wrote me a letter. I love her. She is such a neat person. I miss her so much. She helped me out when I was discouraged. I hope I can see her soon.

The blond girl closed the journal and climbed under her covers.

"How did I get here?" 

Chapter 3: “You become what you think about all day long.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson

The blond girl stood still in the middle of the room. She waited as her mother held the pieces of fabric up to her body. This was a process the blond girl was familiar with as her mother, a wonderful seamstress, had often sewn clothing for the blond girl and her sisters. Today was the day that a new jumper was being made for her to wear to church. Her mother even let her help pick out the fabric. 

"Oh no!" her mother exclaimed as she was fitting the pieces on the blond girl. "I must have cut it out wrong."

The blond girl looked to her left side where her mother was fidgeting with the fabric. She instantly noticed what had worried her mother. There was no way that the two pieces were going to fit around her body. Her mother began making suggestions of how to remedy the problem, but she couldn't figure out what to do. 

A relative witnessing the disaster came to try and help, but once she saw the hopelessness of the situation decided to dissuade the blond girls mother from continuing by pointing out the real problem. 

"It's no use Vickie, her hips are just too big."

The problem wasn't the fabric being cut incorrectly, the problem was her ugly body. The blond girl instantly clenched her jaw and blinked several times to try and prevent herself from crying.

February 24, 2004

I can't complain about today. Nothing really interesting happened. Except when Joseph came up to me and told me how good I looked. I didn't know what to say to him because I thought I looked horrible. I've decided I'm going to wear sweatshirts until I get back down to a better size.

It had been a month since starting my diet and I had gone down four pant sizes. I was still overly concerned about the weight I had gained over the weekend as I woke up that morning to start the Power 90 workout. It felt good to exercise and feel like I was burning away all the extra weight. The panic from the night before began to subside once I had finished the workout. Walking into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day, I noticed my reflection and began my usual routine of criticizing and measuring my body. Starting with my stomach and then moving to my hips and thighs, my hands would pull at the fat to see if there was more or less than the day before. I would measure my thighs, upper arms, and wrists by wrapping my hands or fingers around them and see if they felt any smaller. I would stare at myself posing in different directions, hoping that I would somehow be able to see a change in my body that I hadn't noticed before. The panic, that had only a few moments before been lessened, began to return the longer I stood in front of that mirror.

You've gotten bigger! Look at all of the fat rolls! You look awful. How do you even dare face people every day. You shouldn't leave the house today. You look fifty pounds heavier than you did last week. People don't want to look at you. Are your clothes even going to fit today? Even if you get your pants buttoned you'll have fat hanging over the sides because they'll be too tight. You'll look disgusting. Nobody wants to have to look at you. You are so ugly.

I tried to calm my thoughts by telling myself it would be ok because I was going to be able to get back to my normal eating habits and workout more, but the thoughts stuck with me. I weighed myself  with my clothes on, weighed myself with my clothes off, went to the bathroom, weighed myself again, showered, and weighed myself. I wanted to know exactly how much I weighed and what the difference in weight would be after each different circumstance. Each time I weighed myself I hoped and prayed that somehow the number would magically go down. By the time I left the house, I was so worked up and my thoughts so out of control that I felt trapped inside my head, unable to think about anything besides how fat and ugly I was. It was as if a battle was raging inside my head between the thoughts telling me how horrible I looked and the thoughts trying to calm everything down by saying it was ok because I wasn't going to eat as much today. It was the only way I could find the courage to be around people.

Concentrating in class was almost impossible. I tried to get myself to focus on what was being taught, but I could only focus on what was going on in my head. I began distracting myself by trying to calculate how much weight I could lose by the end of the week if I diligently stuck to my 100 calories a day and did Power 90 every morning. I would then begin to think about how many pounds I would have to lose before I could go down another pant size and how long that would take. Before I knew it, I had gone through all of my college classes for the day and had somehow ended up in Choralaires, but I had done nothing but get more and more lost in my own thoughts.

"ShaRee, you are looking so great!"

Choralaires had finished and I walked up to Chris to say hi. I was caught off guard by the comment from Joseph. He and Chris were good friends, but he had never really said anything to me. I spent most of my time in that class keeping to myself and trying to avoid bringing attention to myself. I didn't even know he really knew my name until he gave me this compliment.

"Um, thanks." I replied with an embarrassed smile.

I had never been good at accepting compliments. This day was especially difficult because I knew he had to be making fun of me. I had thoroughly inspected my body that morning and knew that I did not look good.

"Seriously, you look amazing!"

I gave a nervous laugh and thanked him again. I kept thinking that hopefully I would be able to lose ten pounds by the following week. It was such a foreign feeling to have someone give me a compliment about how good I looked, but I found that it was a feeling that was much more enjoyable than I had anticipated.  It was enough of a good moment to get me out of my head. I went home, went to the bathroom, weighed myself with my clothes on, weighed myself with my clothes off, got dressed and fixed a small serving of plain, steamed broccoli.

The next week was the same routine: wake up at 5:00, do Power 90, measure and criticize my body, the thoughts begin, go to the bathroom, weigh myself with clothes on and off, shower, weigh myself, go to school, not learn a thing because I was so focused on losing weight and how awful I looked, go home, go to the bathroom, weigh myself, eat a small serving of vegetables or black beans, weigh myself, lie on my bed and think about losing weight until the day was over, pray that I would lose more weight, and go to bed. It's all I could get myself to do. The days started running together.



"I'm just going to make an appointment for you at the counseling center. It's not a big deal. I just think it would be good for you to have someone help you figure out if going into music is what you really want to do."

Dr. Joines had become worried about me after I called myself stupid when I was unable to understand or answer a question in my music theory class.

"Chris, I don't want to go to therapy!"

"I know, but maybe this will actually be a good thing."

I had gone to Dr. Joines' office at his request where he spoke about his concern for me. He noticed I hadn't been myself lately and calling myself stupid had been frustrating for him to hear. He had lectured me about the need to have more confidence in myself and my abilities.

"He's not wrong. I've been telling you the same thing for a while now." Chris gave me a look of concern, but also showed slight amusement at how angry I was over the thought of going to therapy.

"I know I need more confidence, but just telling me to get more confidence isn't going to make that happen. And why would going to therapy be a good thing? Isn't therapy for crazy people?!"

"Yes, but it's also for people who just need to talk through problems. ShaRee, I think that you've maybe been going overboard with the dieting and exercising. You've lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. It might be good to just talk with a therapist about it and see what he thinks."

"What are you saying? That you think I have some sort of an eating disorder?" I laughed. I knew he was joking. People with eating disorders didn't look like me. I was still so huge. "Yeah right. Like that's possible! I'm still eating and I haven't lost that much weight."

I had gone down two more pant sizes and had gone from eating 100 calories a day to eating a piece of grilled chicken every two days.  I was also doing the workout DVD twice a day.

"I don't want to go! I'm not going. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to him."

"I'll come with you. I really feel like you need to go. I want you to go. Let's just see what he has to say about your eating." Chris said, all amusement gone from his face.


The counseling center at the college was smaller than I had expected. Chris led the way and walked with me to the reception desk. The receptionist was pleasant as I explained about this being my first time in. After completing the necessary paperwork, I sat nervously waiting for the appointment to begin. I was contemplating running out of the room when a man walked around the corner and called my name. I apprehensively stood and gave a look to Chris to let him know that I still didn't want to be doing this. I followed the man back to his office where he motioned for me to sit down.

"So, what made you decide to come in today?"

Dr. Johnson was a handsome man and as we started the conversation he gave me a pleasant smile.

"Um, well, one of my teachers wants me to talk to someone about making sure that my life is heading in a direction that will make me happy and my friend wants me to talk to someone because he's worried about my eating habits."

He gave me a confused look. "Why does everyone else want you to be doing these things?"

I shrugged. My foot was constantly shaking. I didn't know what to think, do, or say.

"Well, tell me about your eating."

I began to explain to him about the challenge and how I had started to lose weight. He would abruptly cut me off and ask a question here or there and then let me continue. The feeling in the room started to feel strange and I could feel myself shutting down the longer we talked.

"Do you just need attention?" he impatiently asked.

"What?"

"Do you need attention? Is that why you're doing this?" He was giving me a look like he had caught me in my scheme.

"What? No! I'm not someone who likes a lot of attention on them. I'll admit that some of the comments about how good I look or praise about how hard I must be working to lose all the weight makes me feel good, but I'm just trying to lose weight. That's all."

He immediately popped up and grabbed a large book off a shelf and flipped to a page.

"Is this what you want to look like?"

He almost sounded angry as he flipped the book around to show me a picture of an emaciated woman dressed in nothing but her underwear. She had a vacant look on her face, like she wasn't aware of her surroundings. I could see every bone on her body and noticed the way her cheeks and eyes sunk inward. Nothing about her frail body was what I was trying to achieve by losing weight.

"No, of course I....."

"Well, that's what you will look like if you keep doing this!" he emphatically stated, cutting me off as he threw the book on his desk and moved to a different chair. "Who's the guy that was sitting with you in the waiting area?"

"His name is Chris. He's a friend." I felt defeated. I wanted to get out of the room more than anything.

"I want to ask him some questions. Do I have your permission to invite him in?"

I gave him a questioning glance and then slowly nodded my head. Why did he need to ask Chris questions? He left the room and I sat in disbelief and confusion. I felt like the conversation had taken off and gotten out of hand without me actually being involved or included in it. Questions had been asked and accusations hurled at me before I even knew how to adequately explain myself. I began to worry that I was even more of a horrible person than I had thought. Was I really the awful person he was accusing me of being? Was I just some stupid girl needing attention? I knew I hated attention. I was struggling with school and I really wanted to lose weight and succeed at my challenge, but I didn't feel like I was trying to get people to notice me by doing it. I didn't know what was happening and before I could really figure anything out, Dr. Johnson was back with Chris close behind. As he interrogated Chris, I stared at the floor and listened to what was being asked and said about me. I didn't know how to react to anything and wondered why so many people continued therapy when it felt more like a trial. Chris answered the questions the same way that I answered them and then proceeded to add why he was worried about me. Dr. Johnson told him not to worry. I didn't have an eating disorder, but there were some things that he wanted to work on with me. I was ushered out of the room, had the next weeks appointment scheduled, and was on my way back to the apartment with Chris before I started to feel like I could speak again. We both started to laugh as Chris pointed out how blunt Dr. Johnson had been.

"At least we know that I don't have an eating disorder. I told you there was nothing wrong with the way I've been eating."

The more we discussed the session and joked about the way in which the conversation had gotten so strange so quickly, the better I felt. I was just glad that I had another person there to witness it and share in the experience.

Everyone still thinks you're so fat. You need to lose more weight. Look at how big you are. You aren't getting any smaller. You're never going to look good. Why don't you try harder. You're so lazy. Do you see all the fat rolls?! Look at how many there are! You need to find a way to get rid of them. You are so fat. The only thing people see when they look at you is your fat body. You need to lose the weight faster. The only way to feel better is to lose the weight. You are so ugly. No one can stand to look at you. 

"What have you been doing? You're starting to look so good! You've inspired me to start trying to get in shape."

See, they only think you are worth looking at when you are losing weight. They all thought you were so hideous and disgusting, but when you lose weight they think you aren't completely worthless. You can't be this big anymore. You have to lose weight. You are only worth anything if you can get smaller. You aren't pretty unless you are thin. Why are you still overweight?! It doesn't look like you are any thinner. You need to lose two pounds by tomorrow. Why aren't you fixing this fast enough? You are so gross. Why can't you be prettier?

My days were measured by weigh-ins and work outs. Life stopped being experiences. It was images and comments. It was reactions and thoughts. The battle inside my head was where I spent most of my energy and time.

Why aren't you losing the weight faster!? You are so ugly. Don't you see how disgusting you are?

It's ok. I'll only have a piece of chicken once a week. If I only eat that it'll be ok. I'm only going to have one piece of chicken a week. I'll lose more weight that way. It'll be ok.

"What bra size do you wear?"

I looked at him unable to answer. I could feel myself squirming. "I......"

"Come stand in front of me. I need to see how your clothes are fitting on you to see how much weight you've lost."

So many questions were going through my mind. Was this necessary? Did he not believe me when I told him how much weight I'd lost last week? I stood in the middle of the room and he moved his chair over until he was sitting in front of me.

"What bra size do you wear?"

I reluctantly answered the personal question.

"Have you gone down a cup size at all?"

Where was this going? Was this really how therapy worked? I answered all of his questions and then began following his instructions about pulling my shirt tight around my body or pulling my loose jeans away from my body. I stared at the wall as Dr. Johnson gazed at me and examined my body.

He's probably thinking how disgusting you look. He hates you and thinks you are just some stupid teenager looking for attention. He thinks you look fat and need to lose weight. Why did you even come back to see him? He knows you're a bad person. He can see how horrible you are. He only wants to see your body so he can tell you how ugly you are.

I snapped out of my thoughts as he pulled the waist of my jeans tight around my hips. My face scrunched into a look of discomfort as I felt his hands around my ribs pulling my shirt tight and revealing my body shape.

"It looks like you've lost weight since last week. You know what? You should get out more and be around people. Why don't you go to the gym on campus? Maybe do a little weight training."

He only wants you to go the gym because you need to lose more weight. He can see how big you are and can feel how fat you are. You need to work harder. He thinks you're so lazy. You need to work out more. You're still eating too much. Don't you feel disgusting when you eat? Everyone else thinks you're so disgusting. 

In addition to doing the exercise video twice a day, I was now going to the gym for an hour or more a day. Chris would often go with me and began helping me with weight training.

"ShaRee, is there something going on that is making it harder for you to sing? You just seem like you don't have a lot of energy."

"I've just been exhausted from school. I'll try and rest more."

My voice teacher had started to notice that my voice was struggling. I gave her my excuse, but the truth was that when I wasn't obsessing about exercise, weight, and eating, I was sleeping. I had even started sleeping through classes. When I would come home from school in the afternoon, I would weigh myself and then stumble to my bedroom and collapse on the bed. I was so tired all the time and couldn't get enough sleep.

I need to start eating before voice lessons so I have more energy.

You can't have more than the piece of chicken a week. You will gain weight and become even uglier than you are now. You are such a pig. Why would you want to eat so much? You can't be serious about eating more. You look awful. Do you want to be this ugly your whole life? You still have so much weight to lose. 

It's ok. I'll only eat an apple. I'll stop having chicken. It's too fattening. I'll eat an apple before I have to sing. That way I'll have energy to sing, but I can still lose weight. An apple is better anyway. It's healthier than the piece of chicken. 

"Losing weight is a good thing, just make sure that you are eating the right things and exercising. You know, even jogging in place for fifteen minutes can make all the difference. You could even try doing simple exercises like crunches and sit-ups or squats every night. Just that little bit is so healthy." The well meaning teacher was trying to encourage me to lose weight in a healthy way, but all I could focus on was that I needed to lose weight.

He thinks you're so fat and wants you to lose weight. It doesn't even look like you're working out. You are still so fat. You need to do more. Everyone can still see how ugly you are. Why can't you do anything right? You aren't working hard enough and everyone can tell. You are so fat and lazy. You should work out more. You are so ugly.

I'll start jogging for fifteen minutes every night. I'll do 300 crunches every night in addition to the 200 I've been doing with the DVD. I'll add some pilates, squats, leg lifts. I'll do it every night. It'll be ok. I'll work harder. I have to work harder. I'll do more. It'll be ok.

Dr. Johnson continued to measure me by pulling my clothes tight around my thighs, hips, waists, arms, and bust. Every week I would stand in front of him as he inspected my body nearly as thoroughly as I inspected it each day. It became a motivator for me to push myself harder to lose weight. I didn't want to go in there and have him tell me I didn't look like I'd lost any weight.

So many people kept giving me compliments on how good I looked not knowing that with each comment came a flood of negative thoughts telling me how I was worthless and ugly. I was receiving more attention from people, but I was secluding myself more than I ever had in my life. I tried convincing myself that I was looking better than I ever had, but I became increasingly more self conscious of the way I looked.

My voice was struggling, my grades were slipping, I slept all the time. Each day was the same schedule of working out, weighing myself 15-20 times, obsessively thinking about food while being terrified to eat any of it, and getting further lost in a sea of negative thoughts and mental abuse. The weight continued to drop as those days turned into weeks, weeks into months.


The blond young woman lay in her bed unable to fall asleep. This was unusual for her as she had been spending much of her spare time being exhausted and finding any free minute she could spare to sleep. She pulled her covers up around her shivering body and rolled onto her stomach. She winced and tried to adjust her body as the pain from her hip bones pushing against the mattress caught her off guard. A smile spread across her face at the thought of bones showing instead of fat. Several hours passed with the blond young woman tossing and turning, thinking about how she could lose more weight and the possibility of becoming thin and beautiful. The smile faded as her thoughts took over. Now lying on her side, legs pulled up close to her chest, the blond young woman stared into the dark room and whispered, "When will I stop being ugly."