To my father, a woman’s body was an outward demonstration of her internal  character: being thin was a marker of superior self-restraint. Muscle tone showed  dedication, and body fat indicated poor discipline. That piece of cake I was eating?  I should just tie it under my chin because that’s where it would end up anyway. I  was going to skip soccer practice that night? I guess I wanted to skip dessert too,  huh? Maybe Mollie shouldn’t wear tank tops because they reveal too much of her  armpit fat. (It was later deemed permissible to wear tank tops provided I also wore  a bra to hold my fat in…also known as my developing breasts. But a plain bra— nothing lacy. What kind of message did I want to send?)