Have You Eaten Yet?

By Alyssa Zhang
Edited by Alloe Mak

When baba cooks, he always slices the fatty parts off of the meat

The steel edge of the knife cuts into the skin, bluntly hitting the board as blood seeps

As a child, I loved the fatty parts
I was praised for my baby cheeks
My chubby fingers
My open mouth

My lao lao taught me how to make dumplings out of meat and skin
“Pinch and wrap,” she would say to me as she tucked hair behind my ears
I was never very good at making dumplings.
I would always scoop too much filling, the skin breaking as I tried to conceal the bits of red

I was always fed well, my family insisting that I ate a little more
shoving steaming plates of food into my face
Have you eaten yet?
they would ask me constantly, the phrase becoming synonymous with
I love you

I could never deny their affection
I simply loved them too much
I was praised for my obedience—the way I swallowed with a smile.

The first time I remember being aware of my own body was in the third grade
I was in a changeroom with twenty other little girls, fighting with our damp clothing, struggling to keep only our toes on the tiled bathroom floors
I looked at myself and at the other girls and wished I could look a little smaller

At our next Friday night huoguo, I walked away from the table early, insisting I just wasn’t that hungry.

I grew into my body early
I tried my best to pinch the skin on my hips away
To wrap my waist into bandages
Even with all that practice, I never really got better
I simply had too much filling.

This passing January, I watched as my lao lao piled food onto my plate
My throat closed as my breath shook
My fingers quivered as I intertwined them with the chopsticks
“It’s okay, lao lao, really, I’m just not hungry.”
Her face contorted, her smile lines softening as she said
“What is it? My cooking, no good?”
But what she really meant was
You don’t love us anymore?

It wasn’t that.
I just loved being thin more.

I stay healthy
I stay able

But I look at myself in the mirror
and I outline the parts where I wish I could slice off the fat.