Starving for Her Approval

Just because I ate one single cookie over the weekend, my mom cut off my entire monthly allowance on the spot.

She claimed it was to teach me a lesson. At five-foot-five and a hundred and twenty pounds, she considered me obese.

And fat girls don't marry rich.

She forced me to snap photos of every single meal to log on an app, strictly tracking calories. If anything went over three hundred, I was subjected to an hour-long screaming voicemail tirade.

Whenever I earned money from part-time jobs, she instantly snatched my debit card away under the guise of maternal love: "Mom's just keeping…