On my birthday in June, I made a promise to myself. I promised myself that I would learn to love everything about my body, even the parts I don’t like.

You see, I’ve always been the fat friend. The chubby friend. The overweight friend. Whatever way you want to phrase it, I’m still it. I also have scars and acne on my body. My body is not like the ones that you see on TV shows, movies or in magazines. It’s hard always loving yourself when you are surrounded by beautiful girls that have skinny bodies, seem to know all the secrets to apply make-up and have great personalities.

I know my extra weight and the marks on my skin are not what my friends think of when they think of me. They think of my sarcasm, my kindness, my wisdom, my homemade cookies and the idiotic things I say to make them laugh. Still, I would have to be a fool to try and convince myself that my weight and scars are not some of the first things a person notes when they meet me for the first time; they haven’t had a chance to learn the real me. The beautiful soul that my friends see.

I made this promise because I know grown women who hate their bodies and I know grown women who have come to accept and love their bodies. I wish to be a part of the latter group. It’s a lot easier to have a life full of love and kindness when your biggest enemy isn’t yourself. Trust me when I say this, learning to love yourself is one of the hardest lessons you will ever learn.

I started by listing all of the things about my body that I already love. I love my eyes; they are hazel and the same color as my mom’s. They change to be different shades depending on the light and I’ve been told by my friends that when I’m happy, my eyes light up. I love my hair. It’s healthy, and I’ve donated it three times since. I love my hands. They’ve held new puppies and dying dogs. They’ve comforted my baby nephew, my dying grandparents and my crying friends. They’ve written stories and letters and bake cookies, brownies and muffins that my friends love. They’ve knitted baby hats, prayer shawls and scarves. I love my feet and legs. I love that they have allowed me to walk in multiple 5ks for charity, that they allow me to dance with my friends.

But what about the rest of me? The chubbiness? The acne? The scars? I had to work hard to love them. It wasn’t easy and I forget to love them sometimes. I have to remember that I would rather carry extra weight on my body than meanness in my heart. That the acne that I hate is what happens to teenagers and why should I hate something that everyone has had? I can look at my scars and be ashamed or I can view them as battle marks from all of the battles where my soul and my mind have to fight against each other.

For the past two months, I have worked very hard on the birthday promise I made myself. I started not wearing make-up to work, because I decided little kids did not care what my skin looks like. I made sure to only wear clothes that make me feel comfortable in my body. Clothes that make me feel proud of myself or clothes that make me feel happy. I even bought myself a tank top on vacation to wear outside— something I’d only ever worn underneath dress shirts before. I even wore it on an outing with my friends today.

I haven’t fulfilled my promise yet. There are some days that it’s a fight to love myself. Ask anybody and they’ll tell you the same thing. But just as I’m telling you, they’ll probably add that it’s worth learning to love yourself. You are your biggest commitment in life.