Maybe you hate it.

You were a size X for such a long time, so comfortable in your skin, and suddenly, you are 10, 20, 50 pounds heavier. Fatter. Sometimes, you might feel discomfort at the thought. Sometimes, it is really fucking hard to deal with. It’s okay to feel that way- I get it. I’ve been there… But just in case you need a little extra push out of that rough spot, this is for you.

I moved to my current town at my lightest. I reached my highest weight one year later. The reason being that I was finally in a relationship that I felt comfortable in and I stopped worrying about what NOT to eat. I watched my body change and my partner found new ways of looking at me- as I grew, both figuratively and literally, so did he. I had many revelations that year. Some of them include:

Eating in public does not make you disgusting.

Wearing whatever you want does not make you worthy of negativity.

Weighing more than your friends does not make you ugly.

Wearing a larger shirt size than your boyfriend or girlfriend does not make you unworthy of love.

And finally, most importantly,

FAT

DOES NOT EQUAL

UGLY.

To those who have gained weight, think of the miles, and milestones, you have conquered with each pound. You got through some shit, you grew, you lived. Those stretchmarks are roadmaps and diary entries, scrapbook memories. Your cellulite is beautiful. Do you understand? Your dark inner thighs, your ingrown hairs, your bumps, lumps, rolls… They are you. Your body is proof of your life, and if you’ve made it this far, be proud. Plant your flag and never let anyone else claim you as their discovery. Your body is an incredible, beautiful valley. Live in it independently, without regret, without sorrow. Rejoice in your land. Glean its riches, share what you want to, and love love love it.