Friday morning, and I am on my way to Kfar Saba to meet Neta. About two months ago, her aunt called me and asked to include her in the project. I insisted that Neta herself contact me, and indeed—she called. During our phone conversation, she apologized, hoping she would be interesting enough for the project. “I don’t have a fascinating story, I hope I will still be suitable for you…”

Neta is 21 years old and has been suffering from anorexia since she was 11. Later on, another disorder joined, which challenged her no less—OCD. This manifests mainly as extreme and uncontrollable sterility.

She opens the door, and I see how thin and fragile she is, and how beautiful and sad her eyes are. Walking upright and slowly, she invites me into the living room. Neta still lives with her parents. Like other girls in her condition, she has not yet left home.

A few years ago, she was hospitalized at Tel Hashomer for a period, and indeed her condition seemed to improve, but very soon after her release, she returned to the same place, the safe and familiar one. I ask for her permission to photograph the meeting; she agrees and tells me she hasn’t been photographed in almost 10 years.

Neta no longer remembers what triggered her illness, which in itself makes me sad. She used to be a ballet dancer; now I understand the height and the upright walk that probably remained from those days. Today, she depends on her parents in every possible way. Recently, she started going out to her father’s office and learning a bit of accounting, which brings her a new interest. I talk and talk, hoping that something in my words will move her, reminding her that despite being ill for so long, she is only 21.