Two feet in the box are better than none.
“I start my day agonizing over old pictures of myself. I’m all but drooling over her smaller waist, her pants size. I can taste the edges of jealousy, coppery on my tongue. But there’s something deeply unnatural and jarring about envying a former version of yourself. It introduces a decidedly modern and doomed competition. If I was that thin once, I could be that thin again. If she could do it, so could I.”