It was on a blistering hot day in August. The sun left no mercy as its penetrating rays cooked our skins like fried eggs. Its reflection against the ocean waves made them appear sparkly like glitter. Somehow, it seemed more attractive that way. My friends and I were stretched out on our blankets, wrapped in bikinis. 

“Ugh! This is what heaven really is.” Katie remarked, moaning in satisfaction. She has been one of my best friends since preschool.

I uttered a muffled laugh with my head pressed against the towel. “We’ll get a real good tan today. I can’t wait to see the result.”

“Me too. Hey, you wanna go down to the ocean? The sun is really getting to me right now. I don’t think I can bear it much longer without cooling off a bit. I can literally hear my body telling me to do something right now.”

I chuckled. “How lame, Katie. You know you’re just bored. But we can go all the same. And maybe take some cute pictures at first? I hate myself when my hair’s wet. I look absolutely hideous.” 

Katie nodded. I heaved my body upright, away from the comfort of the blanket. My neck was a bit sore, but it didn’t matter. I lifted my hands into the air and stretched like a purring cat, fully trusting my bikini to fulfill its duty. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a camera clicking. I opened my eyes and found Katie holding her phone in front of her.

“What? Katie! I don’t remember giving you permission to take those pictures. Ugh! I don’t want to see them. I just know I look horrible. Don’t you dare post these anywhere! I swear I will kill you if you do that. I mean it.” I stared at Katie in the eye, making sure that she grasped the gravity of my words.

“Relax!” Katie waved my threats aside, “I think these turned out really good, believe it or not. Look, see for yourself.”

I tried to keep my dignity, but that lasted only but two seconds. I snatched Katie’s phone from her hands and my eyes fell upon the girl in the photo. My eyes widened. The sunlight fell upon my body and I seemed to be radiating. My half stretched out arms provided a nice contrast against the ocean in the background, and it looked almost as if I am hugging the gentle waves. My eyes were shut and the corner of my mouth was quirked up, as if I were reminiscing upon some good memories. 

“You owe me for these.” Katie whispered in my ears with laughter ringing in her voice.

I could only nod. What I did for the rest of the day I have not the slightest clue. Those photos refused to escape from my mind like gum stuck on a wall. They persisted until I reached home. I rushed out of the car and into my room, after which I flung my body onto my leather bed and started my phone. 

My eyes thinned. My fingers wove in rapid motion as if performing a prelude by Mozart. I clicked on Instagram, which has always been at the upper left corner of my home screen, and I was directed straight to my profile. I had 68 posts. They mostly consisted of me, posing in different angles at different locations. Casually clicking on one selfie that I took of myself during a hike in November of last year, I scrolled through the comments. It was always the same old compliments: “what a cutie!” “omg hottt” and things of the kind. A subtle smile played on my lips. 

Aftering staring at the flattery for several seconds, I slowly pulled up “add new post” and selected the photo Katie took for me by chance today. I scrutinized it. Everything seemed perfect; my posture, expression, the scenery, the ocean, the waves, the sun, the beach… the blend seemed to harmonize together like the colors of The Starry Night. 

I hit “post” with as much eagerness as I displayed when I opened my first christmas present. I could already visualize the comment section filled with love and admiration, and the thought almost made me drool. 

With curved lips, I shut my phone and slowly detached myself from the bed. However, my ears were on high alert, anticipating the start of the beeping notifications. 

Sure enough, they trickled in, one after another, like the ringing of the alarm clock in the morning. Only it sounded way more melodious.  

Should I wait a few more minutes? Or…nah let’s see what everyone thinks! My feet retraced their path. I seized my phone as I adjusted into a comfortable position on my bed. Upon opening instagram, the “new: 1294 likes and 148 comments” flickered before my beaming eyes. I bit into my lower lip as I waited with bated breath for the comments to load. A thousand varying possibilities flashed across my mind in that split second before the stream of words and emojis materialized upon the black background of my device. Amist line after line of heart eyes and praising, something caught my eye. It was written in all caps: “NOBODY WANTS TO SEE YOUR F@CKING RIBS. GO EAT THE MUFFINS. THE AUDACITY TO POST THIS. DISGUSTING.”

I frowned. 

What are they talking about? What is wrong with the photo? Why would they say such things about me? 

Stunned, I pulled up my selfie again and, for the first time, recognized the vivid outline of my ribs, darkened even more by the blazing sun as I froze in mid-stretch. 

The glow that seemed to radiate off of that photo was gone. The power that it held above me vanished. I started seeing things. Things within this instagram post that opened my eyes to its imperfections. It was as if I began to observe myself from a whole new perspective. One that was more harsh and judgmental. One that would continue to haunt me throughout my childhood. 

The confident, radiating smile struck me as awkward and uncomfortable. The sun, once a natural editing tool that brightened up my body, seemed only to intensify the exposed ribs, the chicken legs and the darkened eye bags. 

I squirmed, suddenly unable to find a comfortable position. My hands crept towards my body as I traced over its contour. They drilled into my skin and I accepted the pain in silence. 

All of a sudden, madness overcame me. I clenched my fists and dug my teeth into my lower lip as I struggled not to scream. Why had nobody told me this before? Are you telling me that my friends and family knew this whole time but didn’t care enough to tell me? Why would they betray me like this? What did I ever do to them that I deserve to be treated like this? My eyes fell upon the comments again. The words of praise pained my heart more than any physical injuries could’ve done. It was as if someone dug a knife into it. I could feel the gloating eyes behind those comments, exulting at my humiliation while pretentiously encouraging me to keep being myself. 

Unable to bear it any longer, I threw my phone against the wall and dug my head into the pillow, seeking the solace of the darkness. 

A thought flashed across my mind, and I jerked up abruptly. Retrieving my phone, my fingers flurried to erase the post. A sigh of relief fell from my lips when the hideous picture disappeared. 

My feet guided themselves to the closet and my hands worked like machines as they opened the closet, grasped all the colorful bikinis, hurried over to the fireplace, and flung them amidst the menacing flames. Nevertheless, those capitalized words weighed on my shoulders like iron dumbbells, and I haven’t gathered the strength to lift those til this very day.