I’m fat— so what?

When the doctor told me I gained thirty pounds, it was like the world collapsed underneath me right then and there. Thirty pounds? I waited to cry until later on that night. I didn’t want her to see how badly those words ached.

I’m on a diet. Yep, I have to be now. I have to lose the thirty pounds and then some, because the doctor basically told me I’m obese, and what could possibly be worse than that?

A lot of things, actually. A plethora of things could be worse than carrying extra fat.

Being a serial killer, a narcissist, a cheater, a raging bitch– I’d classify all of these traits as being a lot worse than having a little weight.

So why don’t we think like that? Why don’t we go through life reminding ourselves that it’s not the end of the world if we’re fat?

That’s right, I said it. Fat. F-a-t.

If I had any expertise or experience, I would say society conditioned us to be weary of factors not included in the social norm.

But I’m no expert, I have no experience. My opinion means zilch to most people, but that’s okay. Maybe it will mean something to you.

Regardless of weight, we are who we are. We can learn from that and grow; grow beautifully and with grace, or we could hate ourselves and fall straight into a black hole of self-pity.

Health is important. It is necessary for a good quality of life and personal satisfaction. Healthy is not a look, it is a feeling and a lifestyle.

So be who you are, own what you have, and grow from it. Unapologetically love every ounce of yourself.

We need you. Regardless of your body, your ethnicity, who you love and who you don’t, what you claim to be or who you’re not; we need you.

All of you.

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