To the flesh that encases my skeletons, to the organs that are responsible for keeping me healthy and alive, to the body that houses my mind and soul: this is for you. I am sorry for never thinking you were incredible and I apologize for always telling you that you were never good enough.

For as long as I can remember, I was never satisfied with my body. There was always a quirk I didn’t appreciate, a flaw I thought made me somehow less of a beautiful human being. I remember being nine years old standing in front of the full length mirror in my parents’ room and frowning as I pinched at the extra skin at my tummy. I remember being thirteen and staring at the mirror above the sink in the bathroom after trying handfuls of different skin products wondering when in the hell my face would be clear of pesky pimples. I was sixteen when I looked at my best friends’ chests and wondered when I’d fill a bustier like they did. I’ve spent a lifetime disrespecting and putting down a body that has always supported me.

There always seemed to be freckle that wasn't placed properly. The crook of my nose seemed to be less flattering to my profile. There was always somethingI didn't like about the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. I hated that I wasn't born with the blue eyed gene two of my brother's had been born with. My brown eyes made me feel boring, plain. I wished I could stretch my arms up and reach the sky in hopes of growing a few more inches. I constantly walked on my tip-toes as a kid, dreaming I could catch a star once I wasn't so short anymore.

I’m sorry about the handful of times I counted calories or contemplated skipping a meal to see my waist shrink. I’m sorry I considered you undesirable as soon as I stepped on the scale and it tipped over 100 pounds. I’m sorry for calling you names and wishing I could switch bodies with the models who danced on the pages of Victoria Secret. I frowned when I looked at you in the mirror and whispered I wished to have the lives of thinner, taller, blonder, prettier girls--I shouldn’t have done that. I constantly compared myself to other girls my age to see how I would scale up. I would look at girls all around me, thinking what do they have that I don’t? I’m sorry I compared you instead of appreciating you.

I’m sorry I let my self-esteem bully you. My self-esteem is a terrible, awful monster rearing its ugly head every time I peer in the dusty reflection of mirrored glass, every time I pinch at the folds of my stomach, and every time I noticed the crook of my nose. It gobbles up any confident thought I possess and thrives off my vulnerability. It screams from the gooseflesh on my neck, scratching its offending hands at the self-assuring words that attempt to squeeze from my lips. There are bruises on my heart and cracks in my skin--my esteem is a ghost that has become friends with my shadow and enemies with my reflection. My self-esteem is my own bully. I always blamed the biting words of others and the menacing, judgmental gazes from girls who weren’t so nice as the source of my discomfort within the skin I’m currently living in, yet the real source of negative consumption consists of the ghoul living at the base of my spine, the troll living underneath my ribcage, and the silly little goblins swimming in my bloodstream. All the put-downs, the self-loathing, the disappointment: it all stemmed from the little monsters living within my body, sending tainted messages dripping with toxins through my brainwaves. The biggest and meanest bully I ever encountered in my life was, and still is, myself. I apologize to you, body, for letting you be the culprit of my self-esteem’s cruelty.

People stress that women come in all different shapes, colors and sizes and put emphasis on body positivity within women as if we are the only victims of body shaming. We are not. Women and men all experience insecurity within themselves and it’s important for every person whether male, female, gender fluid, transgender, to love their body and understand it is an incredible thing.

I’m sorry, body, for not appreciating your worth and realizing you are a temple and should be treated as one. I acknowledge it’s okay to be uncomfortable in my own skin. With that in mind, I will make a pledge to myself to respect and love you for making me beautifully human and encourage those reading to make the same pledge to their bodies.