Acceptance, a word we all seem to be familiar enough with. I can accept your invitation. You can accept a Facebook friend request. The admissions department can accept you into the university. I can accept defeat. I can accept the cards that I have been dealt. I can accept the decisions I have made that have brought me to this very moment. Acceptance.

I have overused the words, “accept” and “acceptance” to emphasize their importance. I am even drawing more attention to the importance of these words by acknowledging my overuse. I digress.

Over nearly 20 years of life, I have changed, developed, grown, learned, failed, succeeded, and flourished. I have learned to accept not only the people and the world around me, but I have learned to accept myself. Self-acceptance proves to be controversial with influences such as social media. Women are faulted for accepting their bodies that are not ideal. Some people seem to believe that by a person accepting and being proud of who they are if they do not fall under the ideal weight and height standards, that particular person is promoting unhealthy lifestyles. No. Acceptance is being proud of who you are today. Not who you will be tomorrow. Not who you were yesterday. Not who you will be 10 years from now.

Now here’s where I delve into an anecdote about my own life. I have such vivid memories of being a young girl so ashamed of what my body looked like, concerned about saying the right thing, and fearful of being wrong or judged. I was told that my thighs were too big, heavy girls shouldn’t wear skinny jeans, and my face was too round for short hair. These comments had such negative connotations that it made me feel inferior to my peers and my friends who did not have the same physique I did and quite frankly still do. I wanted to please everyone. I refused to wear shorts for the majority of my middle and high school career out of fear that my cellulite may offend someone. I was miserably insecure and masked it with self-deprecating jokes that most definitely just made it worse.

Thankfully, I discovered women through social media who had accepted their bodies. I finally saw women with body types more similar to my own who openly talked and posted about what makes their bodies unideal according to the standards of most and why they don’t care what people think or say. I finally understand that my body in summer clothes isn’t a surprise to anybody. Nobody thinks that I’ve been wearing 7 layers of pants to make my legs look bigger so they will be shocked by the sight of my much smaller bare leg. If they do think this, then they are mistaken and will discover that my thighs are just as big in jeans as they are in shorts. I’ve learned that yes, my thighs are too big for size 2 pants.

They are not, however, too big to function. My body operates as a body should. It allows me to move and it allows me to live my life. I can dance. I can walk. I can skip. I can run (although I choose not to). My body functions like a body and I don’t need comments on what should be done to make it better or more ideal. I am an individual who is capable of producing thought and opinion. I will not always be able to please the entire world. I will be wrong. I will be right. I will make some people really angry. I will make some people really happy.

All of this is not to say that I necessarily like the way my body looks. I do not like it, but I accept it. I have one chance with my body and I have one mind, so I choose to accept them. This is what I have to work with today and what I will have to work with tomorrow. Accepting yourself does not necessarily mean that you have to love every aspect of your being. Respect who you are and be confident enough to accept it.

If you don’t want to see the cellulite on my thighs, no one is forcing you to look at it. If it is hot, I am going to wear shorts because I can and I am not dealing with my jeans sticking to me. Accept it.