I am trying so hard to love my body. I am trying so hard not to think about the way that society has made me believe that I am overweight or undervalued because I am not a size 2. I am trying to forget about the corners of my body that are folding over. I am trying to see them as edges that make me who I am. I am trying so hard to not think about the women who are promoting bodies that are photoshopped, covered, and far removed. I am trying to think about the bodies that are full of stretch marks because they have waded through an everlasting world of struggle and strength.
I am trying so hard to love my body.
You see, it is really hard to love your body in a world that promotes sizing. It is really hard to look past the system of smalls, mediums, and larges and determine that it is just a tag. It is really hard to take a deep breath and tell yourself that it’s okay that your favorite pairs of pants don’t fit anymore. It’s really hard to look back at pictures where you were skinnier and, in the eyes of the world, more desirable. It’s really hard to not let these thoughts get to you. It is really hard to love your body.
I am trying so hard to love my body, but it is really hard.
It is an everyday uphill battle of forgiveness and grace. It is a constant fight for the freedom to be viewed as more. It is the ability to remind myself when I’m looking in the mirror that I am not just a skeleton. I am trying so hard to love my body because I want to, not because anyone is telling me I have to. I am trying to love my body because I want to show it off like a new toy and wear it as proudly as I can.
I am trying so hard to love my body and to remember I am more than this.
I am trying to remember that I am a soul, a heart, a breath, and a collection of years. I am trying to remember that my size doesn’t define me and that people who truly love me can see beyond a world of skin. I am trying to remember that my ability to wear a swimsuit isn’t what sets me apart. I am trying to remember that I am defined by the people I love and the passions I chase.
God, I am trying so hard to love my body.
I am trying so hard to click out of Instagram when the world tries to convince me that the only body types are those that are at a certain weight. I am trying to remember that there are millions of different types of bodies, each with their own story. I am trying to lose the idea that you’re only beautiful when you’re skinny and that you’re only worth loving when the skin on your body doesn’t run over.
I am fighting to love my body.
I am fighting for all of the people who have felt ashamed because they’ve had to reach to the back of the clothes rack. I am fighting for the bodies that have been weathered by abuse or defeat and that continually keep functioning. I am fighting for the bodies that are brave. I am fighting for the ones who have been told that if they were just “skinnier,” then they could get a job or a relationship. I am fighting to love my body for everyone who is hurting. I am fighting to love my body for me.
I am trying so hard to love my body, and it isn’t easy, but I’m trying.