I was 11 when I first learned to hate my body, mocked for the roll that showed in between the end of my thighs and the button of my 2 year old jeans. A lot of growing happens between 9 and 11. I wore loose pants for the next few weeks.
12 years later, jeans still terrify me.
Yet a lot of growing happens in 12 years.
And now I slip on jeans, eyes still closed until a shirt can cover that button. But when I look in the mirror I realize that I can now stare at my reflection.
And I like what I see.
No, it isn't love yet, but it takes many years to unlearn how to hate your body.
Its been awhile since I thought about that and when I think back to how I was I can see just how far I have come.
Crop tops arent a hard no and bathing suits on the right day can feel perfectly correct.
And I want to thank amazing poet Savannah Brown for reminding me that in order to embrace body positivity, you first have to have realized that your hatred was so consuming that the way your face reflected off of a spoon could make you lose your appetite.
Always remember, we are taught that to love ourselves is wrong.
That we women are conceited when we love our appearance.
But people who believe that are too afraid of our strength.
Always remember, we are beautiful.