**WARNING: The following content contains graphic descriptions of eating disorders. My writing is in no way intended to harm or offend any individuals. Please proceed at your own risk. 


Today, I ate a chocolate chip cookie and the world did not end.

It was fluffy, moist, and chewy with just the right number of chocolate chips in there. Granted, if Grandma had made it – or perhaps if they had pulled fresh out of the oven mere minutes prior – my taste buds would have danced a little more. But the cookie had God knows how many calories and it was chock full of fat and carbs and maybe two grams of protein, if that. I couldn’t care less, though. I took a bite, smiled so big everyone could see my chocolate-laden teeth, and then I took another, and then another, and another until that whole cookie made its way into my belly. Then I dusted the crumbs off my laps, stood up calmly, and went on living my life.

I ate a big ass cookie and I lived to tell the tale.

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