Thin, waif-like models grace (or should I say "disgrace") the pages of every fashion magazine in our society. It has become a standard, banal thing to us. Even though it angers many, we all accept this and take it in stride.

Yet, I do no think the photographers, directors, publishers or editors realize what a toll these photographs take on human lives. As I write this piece, I am scrupulously examining myself. Am I thin enough? Curvy enough? Tall enough? I had always wanted to be a model, but then, one day, my dreams were shot down. I realized, as many others have, my body shape just would not cut it. Would others, like me, try desperately to become thin? To my friends, family and acquaintances I appear self-confident and content with myself. I do no complain about my weight, and claim to be comfortable with myself - yet that is not the truth. Not nearly.

Every day I look at myself and wonder how I appear to others. To me, I realize my weight is not an issue. But those magazines seem to tell me it is. So, I relentlessly obsess over the thought that people think I am "chunky." I contemplate how I can compare to my friends. I constantly try to prove to people that my being flabby is something I cannot prevent. I mention my healthy eating habits so people can question themselves why I am not "standard" size.

I have endured the pain of being labeled a capricious eater. I have been through astonishing agony with my family. Yet, somehow, it was and is all worth being thin. It is worth having people comment on my physique, mentioning that I look healthy and in shape. But that is where they are wrong.

Healthy eating is correct. Healthy state of mind is far from the truth. If only people knew and understood what runs through my mind, every minute, every hour, every day ...

How and where did I obtain these foolish notions? How did these ideas beset my correct thoughts and take over? Maybe these are thoughts only fashion models can understand. t