I am 21 years old, and I have stretch marks.

This seems strange to put into writing as I have spent such a long time trying to hide this "body flaw" of mine commonly associated with pregnancy weight gain or pre teen growth spurts, even going as far as to use liquid foundation to cover them when things like swimsuit season caused for the areas of my body that have them to be shown.

I know that stretch marks are common, a lot of people have them and in the grand scheme of things they really aren't even that big of a deal. However, when you are young, active, in relatively good shape, and a lot of your friends (who you try as hard as you possibly can not to compare yourself to but at the end of the day you are still human) look like they could be on the cover of the sport's illustrated swimsuit edition, any small body nonconformity can be devastating.

Perspective is an important and a powerful thing. It can truly dictate the way that you feel about something. A change in perspective is exactly what brought me not only the ability to accept my body's imperfections but to be proud of them and what they mean for me.

I struggled with an eating disorder.

I will spare sharing every single detail, but I was consuming I imagine only around 500-700 calories, a majority of which I was either burning off with an excessive amount of exercise or purging out of my body by self-induced vomiting. I avoided social settings in which I knew food would be involved. My skin became pale, my body constantly weak and tired, my hair dry and brittle and, and I lost my menstrual cycle. I found myself with barely enough energy to walk up the stairs some days.

I knew I was slowly killing myself, but it became an addiction.

I knew I was sick but I couldn't stop. I knew I was severely hurting those who loved me as they saw my body slowly withering away and couldn't do anything about it but I was helpless. I was obsessed with my body, my size, and restricting myself from consuming calories. I would become angry with myself if I wasn't down multiple pounds by the end of each week.

To someone who doesn't entirely understand addiction or mental illness, sometimes the concept of these destructive behaviors can be tricky, but the solution is not as simple as it seems.

If I knew how horrible my actions were why didn't I stop? Just eat!

I couldn't stop for the same reason that an alcoholic can't say no to another drink or a drug addict to another hit even when they know it's ruining their life. The way that addiction can rewire a brain is one of the most devastating, heartbreaking, and mysterious concepts to grasp. I knew it was killing me but my brain was a slave to the sick high I got when I continued to decrease in weight.

I can't pinpoint the exact day that I decided I needed help.

Maybe my brain is blocking it out for a reason, as you can imagine it had to be an emotional low point. All I know is that it happened and I began to get my health back, but I didn't do it alone.

Learning to love and accept your body is difficult enough, but on top of those already difficult tasks, I was relearning how to eat and retraining my brain that food was nourishment and not something that needed to either be burned away or thrown up into a toilet bowl in my basement bathroom when no one was listening. I don't know how, but with the guidance and support from my friends and family, I did.

I fought back, and eventually, I starting gaining weight.

Revisiting the idea of perspective change, it's ironic that the very thing that I feared most in the heat of my disorder, weight gain, became the very thing that was a sign of my recovery and health. With the quick weight gain as I worked toward reaching a healthy weight again came, you guessed it, the stretch marks that I still sport today on my body.

My stretch marks are scars from a battle I won.

I concurred an addiction and a disease that could easily have taken my life. I learned to eat in order to nourish my body that I learned to love. The body that I have has the ability to run, leap, dance, and carry me anywhere that my next dream takes me. I'm not going to be unrealistic with you. I still struggle with my body image sometimes and I think everyone does, and that's ok.

What matters is that I know what is important, how to change my thinking, how to take care of my body, and ultimately what health truly means. I have the accountability and guidance I need to stay healthy and the support I need to know how to show my body love.

Body positivity and acceptance are big buzz word topics in our society right now, but do we really truly understand what we are saying when we speak of them? Your body is a unique vessel that can tell a special story that shouldn't be silenced.

Whether it is a mole, a scar, weight, a birthmark, an amputation, or a stretch mark, every special addition to your body is just that, special. Body positivity is about being healthy, not only physically but mentally. Healthy means something entirely different to everyone and for me, it's a happy, active body...with stretch marks.