I love food.

This statement should not set me apart or be unique, yet it is.

In a world of keto diets, counting macronutrients, whole 30, and every fad diet in between, it is rare to wholeheartedly love all kinds of food and drink and do so unapologetically.

I like cheese, pizza, tacos, burritos, and pasta. If it has carbs, count me in. I once considered driving an hour to go to my favorite pizzeria. I cannot even count how many free pizzas I have racked up in Domino’s rewards this past semester.

We all fall victims to looking at Instagram models and celebrities and coveting their airbrushed, Photoshopped bodies or the bodies the generic lottery has blessed them with.

Many times when people, especially women, explain and list their love of favorite fatty, sugar-laden foods they, we also feel the need to also list our exercise regimen. Why? No matter how many reps, push-ups, and miles you run, you are never going to outrun your diet.

You can like to eat and like to workout. You can pick up a chocolate bar and never pick up a dumbbell. Eating and working out are not mutually exclusive, but they can be mutually exclusive.

I have finally come to a place where I have accepted my body and all its flaws. By doing so, I am not saying that I need my body to get “bikini ready” or that I need to drop ten pounds by summer.

I accept my body with all its flaws, and if these flaws remain, I will be perfectly fine with that.

At some point in our youth-obsessed, Pinterest boards filled with “thinspo," we have all decided that there is an ideal look we should all aspire to and strive to achieve.

I am happy to be healthy, and I am happy with my not so healthy moments. I spent so long hating my body and myself that I am not going to waste another minute wishing I was someone that I am not.