The truth of it all is that I am technically "overweight." I use this term loosely because I have lots of issues with it. The way I'm using it now is in the medical sense. According to the chart in my doctor's office, for my age and height I weigh much more than I'm supposed to.

But I don't really care.

Is that "unhealthy" of me? Am I setting myself up for health problems in the future? Am I going to spontaneously combust if I am not the exact weight that the heinously orange chart says at the doctors?

No. I'm not.

Maybe I could cut down the carbs, yes. Maybe I could try more vegetables to see what I like. Maybe I could start up a gym routine that I actually stick to for more than 2 weeks consecutively.

But, I'm human. I'm 20 years old and I have a lot on my plate (no pun intended). I have an online writing job, an editorial internship, a nanny job and I babysit on the weekends every change I get.

I have a boyfriend that I like to see as often as possible as well as friendships I would love to keep around for the rest of my life. Sometimes the excuse of "I just don't have time" isn't really an excuse.

Yes, I could probably squeeze in a 30 minute workout at least 2, maybe 3 times a week. But when I'm not moving at 100 mph I like to sit still, with a book in my lap and my mind in another world. Oh, and I also balance an anxiety disorder on top of all of this.

Would exercising more frequently help my anxious mind? Absolutely. But its not the first thing on my agenda. It's not top priority because it feels like if I give in, I'm only doing it for everybody else.

My entire life has been filled with jabs from people close to me.

"You should really think about running around the block a few times a week."

"Don't eat that."

"You don't need this, you had fries earlier, remember?"

"You are sooo beautiful and I don't want you to lose that."

Why would I lose that? Does my personality change when I lose 2 pounds? Do I become suddenly such a pill to deal with when I've gained a few pounds?

No. I freaking don't.

I don't lose my sureness of myself. I don't stop caring way more than I probably should. I don't forget anyone's birthday. I don't spit on puppies.

I am still me. I still love everything about my life. I still thank Jesus every single day for the air in my lungs and the blessings all around me.

I do not forget myself when the shape of my body changes. And you shouldn't either. Instead—celebrate every tiny victory. Did you see those oreos in the pantry and pick up almonds instead? Win. Did you walk home one day last week instead of taking the bus? Win. Did you drink two entire bottles of water while you were at work today? Mega win.

But I challenge you to win the biggest victory of them all. Every single day I want you to stand in front of the mirror. This can be right when you wake up, right before you jump into bed, or midday when you're all done up. I want you to look into that mirror and speak it out loud to yourself— "I love you." Because isn't that what it's all about? Spread love. Don't ever forget how special you are.