For most of my life, I would have told you I hated how I looked.
Maybe it’s on society and unrealistic standards. Maybe it’s on comments that I can still remember being made growing up…sometimes about me but mostly people talking badly about themselves. Maybe it was my perpetually landing in “the friend zone.” Maybe it’s all stories I made up in my head.
Whatever the root, it was ridiculous.
And then, this little girl behind me came along.
I decided that if I didn’t love myself, I sure couldn’t raise her to love herself.
And that was the end of it for me. Hard stop. No negative comments. No fretting over stretch marks or extra pounds or a face too round or legs too short. Because that just doesn’t matter.
So here we are…and I’ve never felt better.