I turned to scripture in desperation because they said we don’t have your size in the store but we can order it online, a secret package with contraband goods, and I tried to crawl back into the dated canvas of Impressionist paintings locked in stone buildings, seeking comfort in the oiled arms of women bathing in streams and sunning themselves in open fields, but found the frames broken and the figures fled, and all that remained was a bottle of text, inscribed with the declaration that my body is a sin, a spawn of history faded by varnish, that it should be reduced pound by pound in the name of mercy because Eve did not wear a size 16, and that Eden does not have room for plus-size women who are greedy to take up space in an infinite garden.
I turned to the fatty foundations of my ancient temple and burned it down, and began to build a new haven made of diet pills, caffeine headaches, and detox powders,
I opened my arms to the brethren of the BMI and the sacred priests of the scale that stormed the soft doors and proclaimed that there are demons with sugar-spun claws that are holding my smaller soul hostage, that I must banish these creatures, burn the disciples who clutch onto the false God of fat and stone them, cleanse my altar and extinguish the radical fires ignited by false prophets of self-love. They wailed that my body is not holy until I purge these evils from my flesh.
When I held the diet pills aloft and kneeled, my knees were cushioned by starved salvation and by porcelain protection, and I heard a hallelujah in the chorus of weight loss challenges, and I carved from the sacred text the letters XS into my skin.
I vowed that I would become a devout practitioner of counting calories and pray to the icon of a beach body, that I will believe in a higher power of green-tea supplements that will exorcize the hedonists hiding in my pockets of fat, that even when the deities of diet pills remained silent and would not grant me the salvation I was promised, I would behead the betrayers, one by one until there was nothing left but bodies rotting in the Entrance, and the sharp pang of glory in my empty temple.