Fall from the Promised Land(Aly Kapchan) Whoever said that when things are going really great in your life, something will happen to ruin it, was right. I know that sounds like a very pessimistic attitude but I really believe in this idea. Like if you get a test back in a class and you get an A on it, chances are, the next test you get back won’t be as good. Or, if all of the sudden you get a job and your making tons of money to buy new clothes and stuff, you will probably get dumped by your boyfriend the next day. That‘s just the way the universe works and I‘m telling the truth! Last year, for example, I, Melissa Winston, had been accepted into an elite dancing school. It had five meticulous 3 hours practices a week with traveling competitions on the weekends. It was the hardest thing I had ever attempted in my life, but I didn’t care because dance gave me a purpose. I loved everything about it from the strict dress code of a black leotard and pink tights, to the roll call at the end of a performance. Whenever I complained about a practice or about how I was working so hard, one of my three older over achieving brother’s reminded of the tedious homework they had to do at their private schools when they were in high school and how they had to complete endless hours of community service to get into the ivy leagues they cherished so much now. Those comments usually shut me up quickly.
So, besides from the occasional complaining about being worn out, I was very happy. Thus, in my last day of being a middle schooler, and the week before I went away to camp for the summer, is where my story begins.

It was a particularly humid June afternoon and my legs were sticking to the seat of the leather in my mom’s car as she was driving me home from my eighth grade promotion. “My little girl is growing up." My mom remarked emotionally as we pulled up to my house. As the youngest in my family, I pretended to relish the constant overprotectedness of my everyone, but secretly I craved the attention. Two months ago, since I received word of my acceptance into the summer dance program, many things started to change for me. My slightly tall and lanky body I had always had as a child had sprouted up 3 inches and I had gained 15 lbs. I now had hips, breasts and a full behind. My once blonde stick straight hair had turned a golden brown and curled throughout. My eyebrows had gone from cutely large to dark and bushy, requiring a routine beauty treatment. The changes that occurred felt scary to me, but not half as frightening as it was to other people. My parents were starting to realize they had a teenage girl to look after, my brothers had to keep an extra eye out for me, and then there were John; stuck struggling with feelings of desire and constraint for me.

If I haven’t properly introduced John, I will now. John Peter Lewis, or JP as his friends fondly called him, was 16 years old, the middle of 5 children, 5’9” tall, danced with me since we were little kids, and had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. He was the type of boy who could win you over with his humorous charm and who you could never stay mad at. Unfortunately for me, all of these endearing qualities didn't go unnoticed by the girls around him. Every girl in our dance class either wanted to date or flirt with him. Maybe it was the fact that he was the only straight, decent looking boy whom spent over 15 hours a week with us, or maybe it was JP’s energetic aura that made the girls go weak in the knees for him. Whatever the case, I always felt as if I had the better advantage over the other girls because John was also my best friend. We had grown close over the years and had recently stared hanging out of class. In the winter just before I had told him of the summer dance program in San Francisco, I told JP about my more than friendly intentions towards him.

“Do you think we could be more than friends, like a couple?" I asked with a fleeting hope.

“Mel, I don't know. You're in middle school right now and I'm going to be 16 soon." He replied.

“Well it didn't seem to bother you before. I’ve always been 2 years younger than you.”

“But it would be different if we went out. I don't think our friendship could survive it.” JP explained.

For the next few months, we walked on eggshells around each other. He, not wanting to upset, stayed distant and I tried to act like his rejection didn't bother me by showing my mature side. However, on that June afternoon when I came home from school, I felt things were different between us when I stepped into my house and a surprise going away/graduation party was awaiting me. John was the first one I saw in the crowd being the first to greet me with a close hug. As my lively party died down, John grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. I was sweating with anticipation as his soft hand led mine to the pool house out back.

“I have a present for you.” John said as he handed over to me a small box wrapped neatly with a bow tied on top.

“Wow. Thank you John. I love it." I said this feeling a twinge of emotion as I pulled out a bracelet with a single charm of a ballet shoe.

“As I watched you at your promotion today, I felt like I was seeing you in a totally different light. You looked so grown up and not like the best friend I used to know.” It was after these words that JP leaned over and kissed me. It was quick and unexpected but unforgettable. “When you come back, I want to go out for real.” He whispered in my ear as I gave his an embrace with gratitude.

The next day, as I boarded the plane for camp, I of course was feeling pains of regret for leaving just when things were starting to get interesting with JP. However, I didn't look back as I began an experience I was not soon to forget. Arriving at the campus the next morning was a surreal experience. Everyone was an amazing dancer in all of my classes. They all had hopes of becoming ballerinas and making it big just like I did. After talking to others throughout the orientation, I discovered I was not the only one who had been part of a competitive dance team and who had a rigorous dance schedule. Many of my fellow campers danced at least 10 hours more a week than me and for 5 years longer. Some of them, including my roommate Susan, didn't even go to a regular school, but had a private tutor who worked around their dance schedules. I felt extremely overwhelmed by the catching up I had to do. In just the first week, I spent at least an hour extra each day practicing what I had learned. I was exhausted beyond belief.

On the Sunday after my first week was over, Susan came and sat on the end of my bed.

“You know, you’re really pretty, even with all that extra weight. You have all of this natural talent without having a dancer’s body; you’re really lucky.” Susan said to me earnestly.

“Thanks... I guess." I said hesitantly.

“No, I’m complimenting you. My mom would kill me if I went off the special diet she set for me when I was 11”.

“Well I eat whatever I want.”

“I know. I said you’re lucky you can do that and still dance so well."

Those words stuck in my mind that whole night. I just kept tossing and turning in my bed thinking; ‘Was the extra weight I had gained in the last few months affecting how I danced? Could I be as good as all of these girls if I lost a few pounds?’ For the next week, I decided to cut out all of the junk food I normally ate and see what it did. At the end of the week, I felt great, with a burst of fresh energy. I had even lost three pounds! The compliments I received ranged from ‘Wow; you’re an awesome dancer’ to ‘You look really great.’ The attention I was getting reminded me of home, so I thought; ‘why let it stop?’ The next week, I cut out high fat foods, along with the junk food. It worked great. A few more pounds came off and more compliments piled on. Susan even started to share her dieting secrets with me. She was on a no carbohydrate plan and so I tried that too. By a month’s time, 15 pounds had diminished from my frame and I looked like a professional dancer.

However, instead of feeling great, like I had with the first weight loss, I felt really tired. My muscles were cramping up easily, so I had to take more time to stretch. Also, my period had stopped coming, but I thought it was normal because this sometimes happened to hard working athletes. But losing all of this weight did have many perks. I got more attention from the boys, from the instructors, and from my fellow camp friends. All of the girls wanted to know how I lost so much weight so quickly. I thought to myself, ‘When I come home in two weeks, JP won't be able to resist me.’ I was so excited to begin our relationship.

However, even as others around me constantly said how great I looked, I still felt inadequate. This was my chance to shine and be better than I ever was in dance. If I excelled in this, it would make up for my academics skills that fell far below my brothers’ and it would enhance my image of being the perfect daughter. Becoming the best in my dance class soon seemed within reach and I wanted to do anything and everything to achieve that goal in the short time I had left at camp.

There were also a bunch of girls that I became friends with who joined me on my quest to stay slim. They told me horror stories of how they only brushed their teeth once a day with toothpaste because it had calories in it and how each stick of gum I ate packed 15 calories a piece. I figured if I could cut a few little things like that out of my diet, it would eliminate any unnecessary weight gain. By the end of July, my camp was over and when I arrived home, I weighed 103 lbs; a full 22 lbs less than when I began camp. I thought I looked like a work in progress; better than I did before, but not finished. As the taxi dropped me off and I walked in through the front door, my mom’s face was aghast.

“Melissa. What happened? Why are you so thin?!" She squealed.

“Thanks mom. I was just trying a new diet." I explained.

“How much weight have ÿou lost?” She asked with concern.

“Only about 10 lbs.” I lied as she helped me carry my bags upstairs.

That night at dinner, every one was really quiet around me and I knew I had been the popular topic of conversation.

“Melissa, why do you have that sweatshirt on, its 90 degrees outside." My brother Justin teased.

“Justin, I'm just cold! Leave me alone!" I yelled defensively.

“Um. Ok. But your hands look a little blue." He mentioned.

“I noticed that do. Honey are you feeling ok?” My mother asked me.

“Yeah actually, I do feel kind of crappy. I think I’m going to go to my room and rest." My family suspiciously eyed my every move as I hurried up to my room. I couldn't take this criticism. ‘What the hell is wrong with them?’ I thought to myself as I soaked in a scorching bubble bath later that night. As I scrubbed my body, I noticed a fine growth of hair all over my stomach that I had never seen before.

“Great. Another imperfection to add to the list.” I sarcastically remarked to myself. I decided to take a nap and about an hour later a shrill ring awakened me in my ear. I looked at the Caller ID; it was JP. I really wasn't in the mood to talk to him right now, I thought to myself dreadfully. After he had left me a message I checked my voicemail.

“Hey Mel, it's John. I guess you’re probably exhausted and sleeping from the flight right now. I just wanted to welcome you home and tell you how much I missed you. I really want to see you so come to my house tomorrow at 2. Bye.”

When I went to bed that night, I couldn't fall asleep for hours. I just kept tossing and turning. Why didn't I want to talk to john? He was part of the reason I worked my ass off this summer, yet all I was feeling towards him was confusion.

The next day, I held my breath as I rang John’s doorbell. He opened the door with a smile that spread from ear to ear obviously elated to see me. However his happiness quickly subsided when he saw the condition I was in.

“Melissa." He said breathlessly after a quick kiss. “You look so...different.

“Well, that wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting but I seem to be getting a lot of that from people.” I said in distaste.

“I’m sorry. I was just a little overwhelmed with seeing you. Come in and sit down.” He said.

However, as we sat on the couch, I could tell things weren't all right. He looked afraid to touch me, as if I was a porcelain doll. “So how was camp? Tell me everything. Did you dance all of the time? Did you meet any pros? Did you miss me?” He bombarded me.

“God John shut up! Let me breathe for a second.” I said irritably.

“Is something wrong?”” He asked obviously hurt.

“Yeah. Everyone is treating me like a 2-year-old.” I whined, sounding very much like the toddler I described.

“Well Mel. You were gone for six weeks and you come back with half of you missing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I screamed.

“Melissa, look at you. You look like crap. All I wanted was for you to come home and for everything to be the same and for us to start being together for real.

“I am the same! Why do you care about what I look like so much?"

“It’s not just your skeleton body. Six weeks ago, you were the sweetest person, and now you’re just mean. When you were gone my feelings only grew stronger for you.

“You’re just jealous because you know that now that I have the perfect body and I’m going to succeed and leave here one day. I’m going to be a famous dancer and you will still be here, paying off financial aid! I can’t take this!” I said with tears in my eyes. “This is over! This relationship, this friendship, anything you may have thought we had; its done!” I stormed out of JP’s houses weeping with rage, sorrow and most of all regret. Why was he being so mean? Why was I being so mean?"

Through the next few months, my life went by in a blur. I started high school weighing 97 lbs., having lost all of my close friends including my best friend, and being as distant as ever with my family. I felt like I was in a world that revolved around me. In school, I made myself look what seemed perfect and happy on the outside, but out of class, I was a mess. I would go straight to dance every day after school, carefully avoiding JP’s eye, do an extra hour each day after practice, and go home avoiding all contact with my family. I would be too late for dinner each night so I would bring a plate upstairs with me and promptly deposit it in the garbage. My old friends were afraid to talk to me after my outburst with JP, and even my family was sick of my attitude problem. I felt like the only thing I could control in my life was my diet and it didn't feel good. Everyday, my parents would ask me if I wanted to talk to someone or if I had eaten my dinner and I would rudely brush them off. I felt like everyone was against me and jealous of my success with my weight loss and in dance.

One day, my parents decided to bring me to a doctor about my weight and I put up such a fit they made me promise I would stop dieting and didn't make me go. However, secretly, my condition was declining. Each day I found a new way to avoid my hunger and my body’s signals that it was dying. I just kept working out harder and eating less. My body ached at night when I went to bed and I would get an average of 4 hours of sleep each night.

On a balmy October night, my first dance competition was being held at a high school two towns over. I felt really tired that day and no matter how much makeup I put on, I could not get rid of the dark rings under my eyes. Two others girls and I were practicing our routine in the back room. I was doing a double pirouette when I felt a searing pain throughout my whole body. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and I didn't know where I was. It took a few minutes of adjustment to realize I was in a hospital bed. My parents were peering over me.

“Melissa, how do you feel?” My dad asked me calmly.

“Like a truck ran over me.” I explained.

“Melissa! I'm so sorry I didn't see how sick you were. I shouldn't have let your attitude hide your cry for help.” My mother cried weepingly.

The doctor who was standing by walked over.

“Melissa, you suffered a severe heart palpitation caused by a severe dehydration. This comes from strenuous exercise after not supplying the body with sufficient fuel and losing a significant amount of weight in a short period of time. We have analyzed your labs and with you losing over 20% of your weight in a 4 months period, we have concluded you have anorexia. You have refused help in the past and are a minor and therefore I am enforcing my right as your doctor to admit you into an eating disorder program." The doctor explained gently.

My parents' grave expressions were enough to tell me that this was a serious situation. That night my parents brought me home and helped me pack for California. Only this time, instead of being excited to start camp, I was scared to death to begin my recovery.

“Melissa, why did this happen. Why did you do this to yourself? We gave you everything you’ve ever wanted.” My mom pleaded.

“I was scared. I was losing control of my body and of my life. Everything was changing and I couldn't handle it. I wanted to be perfect. This was my only way...” Even though my parents could never fully understand my reasoning behind my sickness; they saw where I was coming from. The most difficult part would be what I had to do next, talk to JP before I left.

John let me in after I rang the doorbell with a mix of concern and impatience on his face.

“I heard what happened. Are you ok? John asked in a monotonous tone.

“John. I don't know what happened when I left for camp. It was so scary. I was beginning a whole new part of my life and becoming someone else. Everyone was treating me differently, and I was finally getting to be with you. I felt anxious and insecure about myself. Everyone at camp was the same way. They harbored my insecurities and made them the worst of me. The only thing I thought I could control in my life was my weight. But even that made me worse. I changed. You saw it in me the first day I came back and you were right. John, I loved you, I mean I love you. I have for a long time. These past few months have been torture without you being there. I'm going to get help and when I come back, I'll need your support. You may not want me the same way anymore but please, I can't loose my best friend.” I cried as tears poured down my cheeks and I lost myself in John’s warm embrace.

After a few minutes of silence, John pulled me away from him and held my face to his.

“Melissa, I don't know if I can love you again right away, but I will always be here for you.”

And with that, John held my hand and walked me home with a promise of nothing more than friendship. But maybe, that's just what I needed all along.

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