Marley stares. She sits across from me at the lunch table with her peanut butter on wheat and just stares at me. There is no particular expression on her face and I can’t tell if she’s watching what I’m doing or just spacing out but I discomfort building within.

For us, the active consciousness of our eyes at the meal tables is out of respect. We look at each other when in conversation but, when all is quiet and we are doing our best to clean our plates in the alloted half hour, we make the effort to divert our gazes elsewhere. This is not something that would be an issue in our natural daily lives because we know that then the people around us aren’t scrutinizing our trays. Here though we know, for the most part, what is going through a person’s mind when their eyes are affixed on another’s food and eating habits. There is the inevitability of comparison, the registering of amounts, and the internal analization of any quirks or rituals that go along with our food consumption. We have all been on both sides of those situations here and knowing what a person is thinking when they watch you eat can be quite unnerving…and yet Marley continues to stare.

I have never eaten with her before and it just so happened that our trays were laid out this way this time so, although uncomfortable, I don’t say anything to her about it. Later though, while enjoying some afternoon fresh air, I bring up the subject with Laura and Benji as we sit in the sun. They reassure me that I am not the only one with this complaint.

“Just call her out on it.” Benji says with a wave of his hand. “She does it to everyone.”

“Yea, actually Tiffany called her on it this morning at breakfast and all she had to say was ‘Marley, you are making me really uncomfortable.'” added Laura.

“Yea, I saw that.” said Benji, “Good for Tiffany. When Marley was doing it to me the other day I didn’t have the guts to say anything, but I will next time.”

“What did Marley do when Tiffany said that?” I probe Laura as I shuffle my foot in a patch of grass.

“She looked embarrassed. She just muttered a ‘sorry’ and sort of hung her head.”

“Hmm…Well, if it happens again I’ll figure out what to do. its good to know though that It wasn’t just me.”

And that was that. For the time being the conflict was resolved and, mostly, forgotten about. I’m sure it won’t be the last eating habit around here that someone unnerves or annoys me with. The food rituals and subconscious quirks of eating disordered people are innumerable and greatly varied. It’s in our nature.