Richelle Mead Quotes

I didn't think I was fat. I just thought I didn't need to gain any weight. But I would drop weight and then I would be comfortable with that number. Then I would lose more weight and that would become my new number.

I dare anybody to look at me and say I'm anorexic. I'm so totally not.

She was convinced that she was anorexic, because every time she looked in the mirror she did indeed see a fat person.

I'm not skinny for the wrong reasons. It's not because I'm bulimic or anorexic or doing drugs. Compared to a lot of actresses my age, I'm actually overweight.

I was never anorexic, so I was never that skinny. I was never bony-bony. But I remember thinking, I don't want to be this skinny.

I must be an anorexic because an anorexic looks in the mirror and sees a fat person.

I don't think just being skinny means necessarily anorexic.

I was 85 lbs. at my 2000 homecoming dance. But I wanted my collarbones and hip bones to show more. I'd feel my hip bones to make sure they were out. If not, I had more weight to lose. I lost my period until I was 17. I loved that. It meant I wasn't healthy, and I didn't want to be healthy.

All my life people have made fun of me because I was so skinny. They kind of made me feel bad about it sometimes. I worried that maybe people will think I am really anorexic.

If I step on a scale, I won't eat for five months.

Personally, I've always been ashamed of my body and I've hated being so skinny - I had an eating disorder for so long.

I was low-key abusing myself. The idea of being skinny became something that was most appealing to me. Even if you watch 'The Real,' from season 1 to season 4, I was always 100 lbs. I started to really work hard to stay petite and to not gain weight and to stay sample size.

I was 103 pounds for 12 years, and what's crazy is that I actually wanted to weigh 100. Honestly, it was for no other reason than the fact that I thought it would be cool to say that I weighed 100 pounds.

Even at the times that I've pushed myself to exhausting limits to get myself at my lightest weight, I did not feel comfortable in that skin.

When people have eating disorders, they can't actually see what they truly look like because they're so clouded with their emotions.

I look hot and, most of all, skinny. I love the day after throwing up. I felt like a feather.

I don't want to be this skinny.

I will not eat cakes or cookies or food. I will be thin, thin, pure. I will be pure and empty. Weight dropping off. Ninety-nine... ninety-five... ninety-two... ninety. Just one more to eighty-nine. Where does it go? Where in the universe does it go?

I have a friend who actually told me that she'd rather be dead than be fat. This is a woman who, if I order a sandwich at lunch, she'll order a salad. If I order a salad, she'll order half a cantaloupe. If I order half a cantaloupe, she'll order a cup of coffee. This bizarre contest continues until she's down to sucking on a mint-flavored toothpick. At this rate, her preference for dying over being fat could be a reality sooner than she thinks.

For many years, I was obsessed about what I was eating, how many calories it had, and how much exercise I'd have to do.

I've never met a woman who thinks they've got a good enough figure - however perfect they look - which is sad, because no one else can see these perceived flaws; they're entirely internal.

For several years I had no idea that I had become anorexic. And I'd be at places with people I cared about, but what I was thinking about was how much extra grease was on the pizza or the calories that I knew was in that shake.

The waist is a terrible thing to mind.

The causes for my eating disorder ran along the usual lines: depression, an inability to express my rage, a desire to exert control, a desire to feel less, a desire to have my body express the things my voice could not. That, and I had gotten in the habit of believing it was better to take up less space.

I had a very unhealthy relationship with food that turned into bulimia.