My Battle With Anorexia (with pics)

I always took pride in talking about my successful weight loss journey. But the truth is a whole lot of ugliness transpired in between. I was inspired to write about this after reading “The Silence We Eat” By Oyindamola Shoola. So, this post is lowkey dedicated to her.

The females in my family tend to be on the big size but I never really had any major weight issues till my final year.

My regular weight those times 😂😂😂

It all began with the realization that I was beginning to stare the real world in the eye. I managed to go by in school but i wasn’t really sure what i wanted to do with my life. I didn’t like the course I was studying. I looked around me and I saw that a lot of my friends were already kicking ass, getting hitched, making plans to further their education etc. I felt like a total failure. And in order not to face this undeniable truth, I decided to hide from the world.

I stopped attending classes and would spend my days eating, sleeping, watching movies and chatting. Here I was in school but pretending it didn’t exist. The first semester ended and I was visited by four tall, dark and handsome F’s. This drove me further into the arms of food. It was my way of escaping the darkness that was threatening to swallow up my mind. (Un)luckily for me, I had a boyfriend who didn’t hold back when it came to spoiling me with ijekuje.

I never got to graduate with my friends but I attended their convocation. It was through one of the pictures I took that I met her. Technically, me but I didn’t want to believe I had become the girl in the picture. I was so big and round and looked heavy. I wondered how I didn’t notice my linear expansion happening. I was really angry. Angry at my boyfriend and my friends for not being honest with me that I now looked like baff (basin). I went to the medical centre to check my weight and i was a whopping 72kg. Somehow, I had gained 13kg in roughly 18 months.

The “OMG” moment

I knew something had to change because if i kept up with the lifestyle, I would hate myself down the line. I found myself a personal trainer who drilled me mercilessly three times a week. I was so dedicated and determined that by my second monthly weigh in, I had lost 9kg. Due to proximity, I couldn’t continue with him after I was done with school. I was left to figure things out on my own now.

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Healthy weight loss

I lost some more weight and it turned out that the more I lost, the more I became obsessed with losing. I moved from monthly weigh in, to weekly, to daily. I was now in a normal BMI but was itching to go lower and lower. An unrealistic weight was plastered all over my head. In a bid to look for ways to lose weight faster,  I stumbled on a website. It was a site for people who had eating disorders. I spent hours scouring the site and liked what I saw. There were loads of girls who were my size or bigger previously and were now paper thin. I was sucked in by the collar bones, the thigh gaps, hip bones and protruding ribs. I created an account and immersed myself. It seemed, I had finally found home.

I started to join several challenges with funny names like “skinny till summer”, “mono challenge”, “ana diet” etc most of which involved starving and excessive exercises. I became a puppet to ‘Ana’. (ana is short for anorexia). I would go for days taking only water, tomato soup or just an apple. When I find myself in situations where I have no choice to eat, I’d find a way to go throw up. I had several support groups on WhatsApp, IG and kik. The motivation was high. But still, I wasn’t impressed with the slow results. Then I took a dangerous detour.

After joining the “ana gang”

One of my ana buddies recommended laxatives. The required dosage was 2 but I doubled it to 4. I’d take this every evening and spend my nights shuffling from my room to the toilet. Every morning, my scale was the first thing I’d say hi to. The weight was dropping and even though I knew deep down most was just water weight, it gave me joy.  Sometimes, I wouldn’t even take water or food all day so the numbers won’t come up the next day. If the numbers came up, I’d start to panic and starve myself the more. I became obsessed with looking at myself in the mirror and checking to see my collar bones, ribs and hip bones. I successfully hid this from my family and even though I knew I was playing with digestive failure, I was willing to risk it all just to be an ana girl.

I wanted thigh gaps so badly

you can see the outline of my ribs

my pelvis was beginning protrude too

I was beginning to experience fatigue, my joints were always aching, I had never ending headaches. My body was wasting away and I couldn’t bear to leave my bed for long. I had read extensively about the dangers of starving yourself to be thin and I concluded it really wasn’t worth it. I quit my suicide mission. Even though I was still picky, I started eating normally. I stopped working out and I shut my scale away. I began to see my relationship with food in a positive light. I wouldn’t say I’m in the body positive movement yet but I no longer hate my body like I used to.

It’s why I get really pissed when someone tells me, “oh, you are getting fat”. For a long time I struggled with self image and hating my body. I was self destructive and it wasn’t easy battling all these demons alone but I did and I conquered. So please, don’t talk nonsense and let me slap you into oblivion.

A year ago vs today

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Me now. *tongue out*

I haven’t used the scale in months. My stomach is now big like a leather football 😂😂😂, lol, but i’m not really bothered. I don’t intend to be 72kg ever again but I’m not killing myself over it. With time, I’d find a balance. My ancestors have decided flat tummy is not my portion and so be it. 😒😒😒

 

This story is not to inspire, motivate or inspivate anyone. I’m also not here to get anyone’s pity. I just figured it was time I talked about it because no one really talks about stuffs like this. Many have probably gone through this or are going through this and if my story could help, then why not share?

Never forget, be-YOU-tiful.

#dwordchemist

 

The Silence We Eat: Oyindamola Shoola

We’ve been made to believe that silence is golden when it’s only gold plated. For beneath that shimmery surface are varieties of colours telling one too many stories. The blue-black hue of a battered face, the thickening redness of a bleeding heart, or the blackness of a broken spirit.

The Silence We Eat is a book that cuts across several societal ills that we seldom talk about, ranging from sexual assault to domestic violence, bullying, harassment, trauma, and the likes. Writing from the victim’s perspective, the author, Oyindamola Shoola, has been able to employ the use of poetry, short stories and quotes to take us into their world of pain and shame, bringing us to a central message – silence.

Silence has become that friendly stranger we have so easily embraced because of the false comfort it seems to offer, our voices losing courage in the face of impending stigma. Many women have been made to condition their minds into accepting blames for the sins of others, pain, shame, and guilt becoming their closest companions. We play pretend, and not even the religious bodies have a solution to these problems.  “Pray,” “It is well with you,” “Be strong,” etc., have become tunes we now dance to.

The Silence We Eat calls out to everyone to recognize and use their voice as the powerful weapon it is. Of what use can silence be when it only invites loud, unwanted voices in your head? Of what use can silence be when it only offers you an alternate reality detaching from the real one leaving you to belong nowhere? Why put off till tomorrow what can be fought today?

The book for me scores because it started hard, going straight and hitting the nail on the head. Every word has been impeccably chosen to drive home the point. It then reaches a crescendo and softens with an influx of humorous stories featuring the legend, Fela.

Let me warn though, the imagery used in this book is so real it could be triggering to victims and survivors.

Get your copy now on OkadaBooks


 

Confession: Failed coup

Well, I actually made this confession some 16years ago but I was having a blast from the past and decided to share this unusual story. 😂😂😂

When I was in JSS1, we had this beautiful and sweet class teacher. We called her Aunty Eunice. Damn, that woman was fine and the closest to an angel I had encountered. On the other hand, we had that Intro tech teacher, Uncle Smart. Uncle Smart was a fine ass man too but he was Hitler’s reincarnation. Beating was his hobby and we naturally didn’t like him. The only time we ever saw the gentle side of Uncle Smart was whenever he came to our class.

We gradually noticed that his visits became quite regular, especially when we all had gone out for our break. Someone might go back to class to see aunty Eunice blushing to whatever he was whispering to her ears. So we decided to know what this harsh man was saying to this sweet lady to make her melt like butter. We felt he didn’t deserve a woman like her and so the association of mischievous class members held a meeting.

After so much deliberations on how to sabotage the blooming love affair, we decided that we’d plant a tape recorder close to her table before leaving for break. This would enable us know what they talked about and see how we can dabaru things. Yours truly happily volunteered to bring the tape recorder. Another said he would bring an empty tape. On the D day, I brought my father’s big ass radio to school, pumping with so much adrenaline. Everything was planned out. Until…

The brains behind this set up decided to back out. I don’t know the angel that warned them in the dream. They didn’t just back out…they decided we should all go and confess all we had planned to Aunty Eunice. 🙆🙆🙆 Lord have mercy. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

I knew how disappointed she would be in me. Not only was I the English captain (which she taught), I was also the most introverted of her students. I looked too innocent to be a partaker of this evil enterprise. She was shocked but somehow impressed by how Smart we were. She neither punished us nor reported us to the school or our parents. I’m not really sure if she told Uncle Smart though. The memory is getting fuzzy now. But if that guy knew what we had been up to, he would have had each of us for dinner, I tell you. 😂😂😂

I’m really hoping someday, I can sit around a table with my old school friends and joke about it. I bet it’s forever etched in our memories. Long live Engreg High School. 🥂

Meanwhile, I still look innocent as ever.

😍😍😍 Argue with your wrinkles.

Thanks for reading to this point. Do share your mischievous high school memories, let’s have a good laugh. 😂😂😂

And have a happy frigging weekend. 🎉🍷🎈🍻🍸🎆🎊

5 Reasons I’m Not Excited About November

Ever since I woke up this morning and realized it was the 31st of October, I’ve been dreading the end of this faithful month.

I know the rest of the world can’t wait to be over October. I mean, it’s about time to waltz into the pre-christmas month. I, on the other hand will gladly hold the minute and second hands of every clock on earth so it doesn’t clock midnight.

Point is, I’m not excited about the new month. Here are my reasons.

1. I’m so crushed.

November makes it six-months post NYSC and it’s kinda scary looking back and wondering, wait… What the heck did I do with all that time?

2. Age Rage

I’m also six months away from officially being in my late twenties. Lol. A quick reminder that the ovaries ain’t gonna stay fresh forever girl. Plus it’s really scary when you begin to think, “what exactly have I done with my life? And where did you say I’m headed?” There is so much to say about this. Apparently, I seem to be experiencing a quarter life crisis. One I seem to be handling woefully on my own, thank you very much.

3. I Hate Christmas

Not really. But I kinda don’t like Christmas and all the festivities that come with it. Christmas died with my childhood and I really get no excitement from it anymore. Plus all that crappy Christmas songs, the knock outs, white and red everywhere…*face palm* It’s a very noisy period and I’ve realised I seem to have developed a low tolerance for noise. Can we skip Christmas this year?

4. Epic Fail. Again.

I hate the monthly reminder of those goals I never got to achieve the previous month(s). Like how I told myself I’d stay off carbonated drinks all through October. Well guess who is drinking Bigi Tropical right now? Yeah. That’s me. Or the one and half books I wrote and abandoned. I’m never going to publish at this rate.

5. Deadline.

I have a work deadline tomorrow which implies I’m going to be staying up real late. But my head is in a fuzzy state right now and I just want to hibernate. Like have a very long, deep, deep sleep. Maybe wake up when I find out I’m Otedola’s secret child.

😂😂😂

Okay, I need to haul my ass home right now, so that’s it for the night. Thanks for listening to my dry bants. Your Candid advice…or preferably a box of pizza and ice cream will be highly appreciated. 😊😊😊

I Hate Love Stories

I think they are just a bunch of perfectly orchestrated mumbo jumbo to distract us from the impending doom. Yeah…they are coming and without mercy they will wipe out this sick excuse of a planet.

Looking at these two shove their tongues down each other’s throats makes me want to throw up my lunch. They have no idea they are being watched. Things are about to get interesting.

Tonight is doing to end with a boom. Lucas is throwing a party to celebrate. SealHecon had sealed a multi billion dollar deal and everyone had been invited. Everyone but me.

You see, SealHecon was my baby. Then I got sick and had to go away. Lucas…sneaky, conniving, supposed-to-be-my-best-friend Lucas took her and cut me out. Now, he’s got the money and the fame.

I can’t take back what belongs to me. Lucas can’t have it either. I got nothing to lose. It’s stage four and watching him address the crowd from beneath the stage makes me tickle in excitement.

The speech is about to end. It’s Samson time. Excuse me while I go blow this shit hole to smithereens…oh, please hold my ribena.

*snickers*

Give Me 3 Minutes and I’ll Make You a Better Lover

Romance is dying out as it seems people are putting more work in proving to the world that they are in a loving relationship than in putting the real love in the relationship. Relationships have been reduced to expressive emojis, occasional phone or video calls, looking good for the gram and so on. Feelings alone don’t cut it because they have the tendency to fade with time if not fanned with the right tools.

Fortunately, old, faithful romantics like myself still exist. *bows as audience applause* Thank you, you really didn’t have to.  Anyways, as I was saying, If you want to take your relationship from basic to the next level, stay with me as I’d be giving you a few tips from my bank of experience on how to add or keep the spark in your relationship alive.

Write them a heartfelt letter

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You don’t need to be Shakespeare to achieve this. All you need is a pen and a piece of paper to pour out your heart to the love of your life. It doesn’t have to be lengthy. It also doesn’t have to be a mushy, mushy letter all the time. You could use it as a medium of apology or to let them know they did something that hurt you. Fold it nicely and tuck in a fancy envelope. Have it delivered or do it personally. It works like magic.

Write them short notes

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These are like mini love letters. Tell her how her smile brightens up the room. Tell him how you love the way his beard tickles your skin. Tell them you love the way their scent lingers on your palm long after they are gone. KISS. Keep It Short and Simple. You can sneak this into her purse, his wallet, stick it on their dashboard, put it in their diary etc. Just make sure it is somewhere they can easily see it.

Get them flowers

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I found myself in an environment where they were so many flowers, various kinds. On my way back from work or from a stroll, I’d pick up some flowers, trim them nice and package it sometimes with a note. You don’t have to break the bank to do this. It tells your partner that you’ve had them in mind. If you don’t have natural flowers around you, you can order from time to time. Ladies, you can do this for your man. Guys, don’t be ashamed to get flowers from your woman. Come on people, don’t be so boring.

Paper or Video scrap book

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Pick a few of your pictures together, get them printed and make a scrap book. Include some notes, writings, pictures, drawings, the ticket of the first movie you saw together, etc. Make it colorful. You can always go online to find out how to do this. On the alternative, you can make a video collection of your pictures, use their favorite music in the background and send it to them. Imagine your significant other receiving this at a moment they are stressed out. They will just keep falling in love with you yakata.

Open when letters

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This is a series of instructions that come in an envelope. For example, “Open when you are sad”, “Open when you are lonely”, “Open when you need a reassurance that I love you”, “Open on valentines day” etc. They could be notes or things you want your partner to do. With this, they will always have you in mind especially if they happen to be travelling to a distant place. You can have as many “open when” letters as you want. Google this for countless “open when” ideas.

Send a voice note

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We live in crazy times. Everything is moving at a fast pace and we can get so caught in our daily activities that by the time you get home for the day, you’d be too tired to play the romantic partner. So, in the middle of the day, record a voice note, letting you partner know you are thinking about them and you are also checking up on them. No one wants to feel abandoned or forgotten. Don’t letter stray bullet hit your partner o. Everyone na shooter now.

Give them gifts

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You don’t have to be a Davido to give your bae some assurance. Start small, work with your budget. Know what they would appreciate and go for it. Even if its #100 cookies, buy it. It all boils down to one thing; “I was thinking of you.” Chai. Love nwantiti.

Go the extra mile

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I once dated a guy whose name I wrote in fancy stone on my phone. Don’t laugh…please. *rme* Do something really extra for them. Like have lunch delivered to them at work either by you or a vendor, go see a football match with him even though you’d rather watch chick flicks, spend time with her in the salon, throw a surprise dinner, download that album they have been looking forward to etc. Think of something creative that you know would blow their minds.

Have some fun

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Go dance to some jazz music. Visit the karaoke bar and sing till everyone there goes deaf. Take a walk to a park or the beach. See a movie. See some art. Go for exhibits. Attend events with each other. Play their favorite song with an instrument you play. Go to the gym together. Whatever you do, always find the time to bond.

I love you

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Never stop using these three magical words. Say it and mean it.

So ladies and gentlemen, stop using “I’m not a romantic person” as an excuse. Nobody was born with the spirit of romance. If you want to have a healthy relationship, you have to be intentional about making your partner happy. If you haven’t started, start now. By the time you make them a priority; their love tank will be constantly topped. Everyone is happy. The End.

If you are a hopeless romantic like myself, please gather around for a selfie. *clicks* Thank you. And don’t forget to share from your well of experience too. I need to add to mine. hehehe.

Ditching the bra!!!

Today is the day we let our babies loose ALL DAY! *does the chicken dance* Let me give you gist. •

Early last year, I got into full blown panic mode. I was feeling some kind of big ‘kokos’ in my left breast so I made the big mistake of checking google. Google told me I had cancer. I was in a state of breastitude frantica. 😭😭😭 This can’t be. I was so afraid of finding out it’s true that it stopped me from going to go get it checked. I couldn’t even tell anyone. To worsen it, I started having pains in the breast at that time. I was like God, I don’t want to die. I have not even starred chopping life. 😭😭😭

For two months, I was in a state of pre-depression. All I was thinking of was cancer and death. Every morning, I would press the breast and start playing the film of the rest of my life. I know how much it takes to treat/maintain cancer. My family doesn’t have that kind of money. At one point, I was even consoling myself with the fact that it could be a benign tumor. Last, last na surgery and I go dey alright. After imagining the worst possible scenario, deciding how I’d share my tiny possessions and even picking who would read my eulogy, I eventually confided in two guys.

Just lookat. Men O. Men. I couldn’t even tell my mum. My mum would have brought the sky down. If panic button had a face, it would be my mum’s. 😂😂😂‚ They encouraged/pressured me to go get checked and I started looking for a place. I found @optimalcancerfoundation on Facebook and they happened to be doing free screening every Friday. I turned up and that waiting period was hell. When it got to my turn, I walked into the room like I was like walking to the hangman’s noose. I was just hearing some kind of evil voices in my head.

The woman started pressing breast. I was like, God…I’m sure she must have been feeling my intense heartbeat but I didn’t even care. I didn’t want to be in there. I didn’t want any of this to be real. She then said to me, ‘I think you should get a scan because I can feel some things in your breast but I’m not sure’. I’m very sure my heart stopped momentarily. Say what? My worst fear is being confirmed. 😨😨😨

I went in for a scan. It took will power not to Start crying there because I had my eyes on the doctor and the way she was looking at the monitor was just scaring me. She did for both breasts but spent a whole lot of time on the left one. See ehh, I’ve never been that scared in my whole life. Honezly. As she told me nothing was wrong with me and I should just use pain killers, see the way I ja pa’d out of there ehh? It wasn’t even funny that period. It took me a while to recover from all that mental and emotional stress I had put on myself.

Please, do not be like me. 😂😂😂 Awareness and early detection is key. We are losing more Nigerian women to breast cancer because they don’t know these things. All you have to do to save the lives of our beautiful, beautiful women is to either help raise the awareness on how to detect breast cancer or partake in raising funds to help find a a possible cure. Let’s not wait till it hits home before we get involved, guys. Tell your mother, sister, girlfriend, wife, female friends, colleagues ati beh beh loh.

And all my ladies, to be a part of the campaign, we are supposed to upload a picture of us with no bra but I don’t know why mine is not uploading. I guess it’s network. Please, no further questions

😌😌😌

Have you or do you know anyone who has had a cancer scare? Wanna share?

Proud PhD Holder in Bus Hustleology

Honestly with what just happened, I deserve a PhD in Bus Hustleology. Abeg, no yab me. 😌😌😌 But wait, what is happening in this Lagos? The traffic has become a giant Hydra swallowing up everyone and everything.

Anyways, back to the gist. So, I have been at the bus stop for over 40minutes waiting for bus to come. Time to time, I’d look over and count the people waiting with me. The bus would be a 22-seater bus. I counted about 35 people before I got tired. I called Myself, sat myself down and gave myself a lecture. Over forty minutes, and no bus. If you miss the next one woooh, ti e ti ba e. So, I positioned myself well well like person wey wan catch bush rat.

Immediately I sighted the bus from afar, omo I no dull am. I ran towards it and looked for a way to get as close to the door as possible. I’m short so it’s sort of an advantage. But then the entrance is high, so super disadvantage cos with all the pushing, climbing would be hard.

As my guy open door, omo see rushing, pushing, squeezing, strangling. I was just squeezing myself in any available space. No be me go sleep for bus stop. As soon as I got close enough, I crawled-jump into the bus, gbam! As in, I entered the bus on all fours. Please don’t laugh at me. Iz nor a funny something. 😒😒😒 I didn’t have a choice. The bus was already filling up fast and doing tush girl will not help my situation.

I managed to get up from the floor of the bus without being trampled and finally secured a seat. By the time I weighed the damage, there was mud all over my shins and knees. I know I have bruises somewhere cos my legs are paining me die but looking at those who missed the bus outside gave me comfort. No dull am next time. 😋😋😋Even though we will still sleep In traffic, at least I have assurance of getting home before midnight. 😫😫😫

So, with all my slaying today, this is how my day ended? Bruises, pain and coated in mud. How can I be a lady when Lagos has turned me to a bus crawler? Chai. Thank God it’s Friday indeed.

PS: In case while reading this, God is touching your heart to bless me with a car, please buy me power bike instead. Danke. 😌😌😌

Crimson

She couldn’t really come up with a reason why she liked Uche. He wasn’t the kind of guy you’d throw a second glance or flip your imaginary hair just to catch his eye. He looked liked your average guy out there. There were no special features, at least not the kind that would have the girls scrambling to take in a bit of the air he just exhaled. There was no name for it… this thing she felt. She wasn’t infatuated. And the last time she had a crush was in her junior secondary school. What she felt with him was more of a connection. Whenever he was close to her, it was as if her Wi-Fi just connected to an open source. He really was a hotspot. No pun intended.

Staring at him as he ordered wasn’t helping. The overhead light shone directly on him and accentuated the details of his face. He had a growing beard connected to a nicely shaped teddy. More so, she was tempted to rub her small hands around his bald head. If she was tall enough, she was so certain she would see her reflection on his head. She giggled quietly, rubbing her sweaty palms together. They had been that way since she walked into the café and caught a glimpse of him sitting like the masterpiece he was. Damn. What was she doing to herself? She knew he probably didn’t see her different from the next girl and was only being polite by asking her to lunch. It meant nothing special to him. But still she hoped that maybe somewhere in there in his subconscious, he felt something. It doesn’t matter if it’s as little as a matchstick flame. She had enough fuel in her to turn this into a bonfire.

Uche turned to her with a smile, the smile that always has her going into part time comatose. Was she falling in love with this friendly stranger? They had been working technically not together for a couple of months. They were in different departments, on different floors at the office. She had noticed him from the first day she resumed. He only recently paid her some attention at a group lunch. Still, she was anxious to know why he had asked her to come over for some coffee. Lunch break wouldn’t be over for another thirty minutes. That was more than enough time.

They picked a seat by the corner overseeing the rest of the café, this time trading places with his back towards the rest of the world. He probably wanted to have his eyes only for her. She blushed. Girl, slow down; you wilding. But could she really help it? His dark eyes were like lasers, piercing into her very soul. She could feel her guts melting like wax before fire. The lines at the edges of his mouth; if only she could reach out to touch them. If only she could run her finger across his lips and…

“Eva…”

She was jolted back to reality, grateful she didn’t spill her coffee in the process.

“Did you get what I said?”

She cleared her throat and fought hard not to look uncomfortable. “I…erm, sorry. Could you repeat what you said, please?”

She saw a glint in his eyes. “Okay. I was told you are an event planner on the side.”

Oh, it’s work, even great. She could use some extra cash with her birthday coming around the corner.

“Yes, I am.” She almost giggled. This was going great, acting all cool and stuff. She deserved an Oscar already.

“So, here’s the thing. I’m getting married and….”

She zoned out after the ‘married’. Time stopped. Coffee splashed. There was a quick excuse to use the bathroom. And there…Eva cried. Her hopes dashed.

Thank you for reading to the end. What would you have done if you were in Eva’s shoes? Feel free to share your opinions in the comment box below.

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