As I walked by a mirror the other day I caught a glimpse of myself and had to stop and look.

There wasn’t anything new, but it dawned on me that I don’t often LOOK at myself. Yeah, I check my face for pimples and frown lines… my mom is nearly 70 and flawless so of course I am trying to follow down that same path. I often check out my gray hairs and am still grateful they don’t freak me out.

I don’t know what it was that caught my eye but  I stopped and stared for about 5 minutes. And then I smiled.

I’m fat.

Like, fat fat. Fat.

Fat.

And while I am not OK with my weight, I am OK with myself.

I can honestly say I am happy in my skin. I am happy with who I am. I am happy with where I have come from. I am happy with where I am going.

Don’t get me wrong, there are indeed things I would like to see changed on my outside… who doesn’t. But overall if this is what I will be like for the next 50 years then that’s fine by me.

When I look around me and see young girls altering themselves to the point where they are barely recognized as their old selves it saddens me greatly. I was once there, starving myself in order to reach approval. Personally I would love to bottle up some of my own self esteem and send it to people like Heidi Montag. And yeah, I know sometimes people just want a different nose, or larger breasts, or sexy calves but a lot of times, the true issue is deep within and one surgery leads to two which leads to three.

A lot of people look at me and assume I am fat because I sit in my house and eat Twinkie’s all day. My own parents do it. They secretly think I park my car at Burger King and eat there all day.  But nothing could be farther from the truth. Out of everyone I know, I eat the least. Taking me to a buffet is a waste of money. I can’t go to dinner without leaving with a doggy bag.  I can’t even finish a 12 oz soda on my own.

They say my body is just pissed off due to years of abuse from me spending my youth being anorexic and then discovering food and then yo yo dieting. Now my metabolism is shot and I am insulin resistant. Go me!

Hopefully, they will figure out the right regimen and I will be able to look like what society deems as “right”. But until then, I am going to continue to walk proud with my head held high, loving myself for exactly who I am.

Just me.

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