My Boyfriend Helps Me Eat, and Other Notes on My Body
After years of disordered eating, I’ve found a partner who nourishes me in more ways than one — “Want a bite?” my boyfriend asks, holding out his half-eaten sandwich. “Sure,” I say, and he hands it to me. I let my teeth sink into the warm puff of bread. “You are my chicken,” he says, smiling and squeezing me.