My sister's belt
I was not a bony girl at thirteen. To become a mountain climber, I’d been working out. It became my habit to exercise, and watch every gram I put into my stomach. Exercise and watch. Still, I couldn’t get down to my sister’s weight that was an irritatingly constant fifty kilograms. My obsession was to get down to her weight but, even at fourteen, I was fifty six. “You have a different constitution.” My Papa tried to appeal to my common sense that was not developed yet. I wanted to eat anything and stay thin, as my sister. My sister didn’t have to exercise and ate anything she wanted, but her waist was smaller than mine. “I do not want any constitution different from Irina’s! Constitution! I am not a country to have a constitution!” “This is a word that defines a body type. When you start studying physiology, you will know. Remember how we played carousel when you were little?” “Yeah! That was cool!” “Remember, how you would grab my fingers with your l...