I think I look best now, when I have some meat on my bones and I’m a bit filled out

Today I walked like I haven’t walked in a while.

I had some spring in my step.

I held my shoulders back and stood straight.

As if stepping on clouds.

As if magical dust transformed me.

But there was no dust. No fairy godmother visited me last night and somehow fixed everything that I believe is wrong with me.

No.

I am still me. I still have this belly. I’m still a bit plump. My freckles are still here. My hair is as alway messy.

Everything is the same.

But yesterday, I heard this girl say

You know what, when I was thin, I actually didn’t think I looked my best. I think I look best now, when I have some meat on my bones and I’m a bit filled out. I look pretty.

Damn.

It doesn’t even matter if she looked best then and there, thin or fuller. It is all just the perspective of the person that’s looking at her.

So why wouldn’t I apply her perspective of herself onto myself?

Because, to be honest, I like being muscular.

I like having wider shoulders.

I like my body as it is.

I look good, and even if I have accepted myself a while ago as I am, this is the ingredient I was missing to feel like I love my body.

I was missing allowing myself the option to think that I am freaking beautiful, that this weight, the plumper cheeks, the fuller figure- it suits me.

So yes, I am gonna keep coming back to this, because it’s nice to have that spring in my step and feel good about myself, even when I’m in just my leggings and not even mascara on me.