Cue Hannah Montana’s "Nobody’s Perfect."

Cue Meghan Trainor’s "All About that Bass."

Now that the jam session is over, I can begin. Alright, I know what you’re thinking. Another article where a girl talks about how she has no flaws and basically gives the middle finger to her haters. This isn’t one of those articles. Side note, don’t hate on those girls, because they kill the game. Anyway, I just want to say that while, sadly, no one is perfect, no one is also given the right to try to use their body against them. It’s just a fact. But we all have the right to love ourselves. That’s also a fact. With summer around the corner and the much-dreaded season of crop tops, bathing suits, and walking around shirtless, I feel as if this needs to be discussed by yours truly.

Personally, I am an abnormally tall, kind of overweight girl, but hey, I can’t control my height and I’m not giving up pizza or mozzarella sticks anytime soon. Besides, if I drop the 75 pounds my fashion magazine told me to lose, I would have to buy all new clothes and 'ya girl is broke. If you can’t tell, I’ve accepted myself. But for some reason, there are people who just are not okay with the fact that I’m okay. And for another reason, there are people who are not okay with how they look. I’m going say it once: No one has the right to shame a person for their looks. Should I say it again for the people in the back?

I’ve heard some weird stuff said about my body, like that I have lumpy thighs or donkey teeth or that my nose is actually a beak. And yeah, for a while, comments like that really stung. I remember I dated a guy who was told that they were amazed that an ugly guy like him was even capable of getting a girlfriend, and yeah, he did feel like shit about it. People get told even worse stuff, but what’s the standard? Is it these size two girls and these six-pack rugged guys? I’m not buying it. I mean, sure, the individuals who fit those descriptions are beautiful. But I know boys who are skinny that I still think are good looking, and I know girls who, yeah, aren’t a size two, but all that means is that she has to go to a different size rack.

I do not believe that there is such a thing as an ideal body type, eye color, hair length, height, shoe size, nose size or anything along those lines.

Cue Lady Gaga’s "Born this Way." (Sorry, last one, I swear).

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; there is no single person that can define what’s perfect. I know I’m not perfect in the slightest, but there is always going to be a person who thinks that my eyes are way too small for my face. There’s always going to be someone who wants to throw a gym workout plan in my face. I learned that the best move is to find the people who just see more of you to love or think that your wild hair is beautiful. Surround yourself with those people. They’re homies. I did, and now whenever I get comments about my appearance, I can genuinely say that unless you’re telling me that—insert feature here—is on fleek, I probably don’t care.

The way to deal with insecurities in others isn’t telling the larger guy to hit the gym or the smaller girl to put some meat on her bones. It’s not asking if they plan on getting a nose job or asking if they look sick when you know damn well she just didn’t feel like contouring today because it’s a lot of work. I have flaws. I know that there are things about me that people would change, and maybe even I would change. Haters are my motivators, and they motivated me to smile every time I look in the mirror, because even though I’m not perfect, I’m still pretty great.