Rachel

''You never eat. Like, seriously, you eat nothing.'' Quinn said, her eyes hard, but her tone maternal.

''No, I do eat!'' I immediately defend myself.

Because, I do eat. I've never had a problem with my body.

''Every time you go to one of our houses, you just say you're not hungry, or take one slice of pizza or whatever, and then you never have any more!''

''Yeah, but it's just because I feel bad. I'm basically taking food from my friends.''

''Kurt told me that every time you go over to his house to hang out with Finn, you never accept anything.'' Quinn said disapprovingly.

''It's the same for Finn, too, you know. Just 'cos he's my boyfriend doesn't mean I'm gonna mindlessly take food from his house.''

''Still, Rachel.''

All this talk isn't going to make me hungrier than I am. I do have an appetite, you know.

I got home thinking about how Finn thinks I'm perfect. I don't need any other confirmation.

Why does Quinn think I am trying to lose weight when my boyfriend thinks I'm perfect?

If he thinks I'm perfect, that should be enough to convince her I wouldn't try to get thinner.

Lately, Quinn's been nagging me to eat more, but it's easy for her to say, her metabolism does everything for her. I know she's just trying to help, but sometimes I just want everyone to shut up and let me do what I want.

I do not eat less because of what anyone has ever said, or what I think of myself. I merely have no appetite.

I stand in front of the mirror in my bra and underwear, scanning myself from head to toe and counting how many flaws are still there.

I sigh, telling myself my thighs will never be any thinner, but at least my stomach could be.

I just have to be patient. Because, I am not on a diet, nor is any of this about anything else, but that I don't have an appetite.

It's a good thing I have no appetite.

I strip off entirely and turn on the shower tap, waiting for the water to warm.

I didn't do it on purpose. It just happened a few months ago.

I just don't eat as much. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I step into the shower and look down at my bare legs, trying to figure out if they are chunky or average. They're not skinny, that's for sure.

If I want to be a star, I must look perfect, as in skinny, flawless complexion and must look good in everything (otherwise, the judges for the auditions would never pick me – I mean – they have to think about the costumes too!).

It's normal that as a destined star, I must look the part on stage. This doesn't mean I have a weight problem and am subconsciously dealing with it.