I have spent the large majority of my life trying to love myself. I grew up with my fair share of insecurities, just like most people. I may not be worried about not knowing as many multiplication facts as my peers or not being the fastest on the playground but insecurities still haunt me. When I think back to myself as a child I can remember having some the same insecurities and doubts about myself that I harbor today.

It seems that one insecurity has followed me throughout my entire life, my weight. For as long as I can remember I have been bigger than the majority of girls my age. When I was in kindergarten I had a best friend who was significantly smaller than me. I remember having to wear her older brother’s clothes home once, after getting mine dirty, because hers didn’t fit me. It was at that moment that I realized I was bigger. This realization that I was “bigger” didn’t become a negative thing till I got a little older and heard that there was something negative about being chubby. My sister would point out that my pants gave me a “muffin top” or that my belly looked pudgy so I should wear a looser shirt. She never made these statements as a way to hurt me but as a way to prevent me from being bullied or insulted.

I have never been the biggest girl but I have never been close to the smallest either. As I grew a little older I became extremely insecure about my size. I chose clothes that hid my stomach and made sure my pants were never tight. I wore t-shirts when I went swimming so no one could see my tummy rolls or stretch marks. When I was old enough to wear makeup I learned to make my face look slimmer so that I could hide my double chin and make my cheekbones look more prominent.

But why?!

Now I’m in college. I’m older and I like to think I’m quite a bit wiser. I’ve realized over time that focusing so much of my attention on my looks and weight keeps me from living my life. Instead of thinking others are complimenting me out of pity, I take it as the truth. I have come to the conclusion that I am beautiful. Why do I have to be tiny to be seen that way? My confidence is beautiful. My intelligence, my personality and my sense of humor are all beautiful. Even my weight is beautiful. I may not have abs of steel or toned legs but my rolls and stretch marks are beautiful just the same. I’ve decided that I shouldn’t spend time wondering what people think of me because they are sitting there wondering about what I think of them.