Body Positive,  Me,  Mental Health

My Worth Cannot Be Measured

You know what really grinds my gears?! When I am talking to someone and say that I am fat and the person responds “No. You are pretty!” I have heard this from well meaning friends and family more times than I can count. I usually smile and nod and just swallow my frustration.

However what I want to say is…

Bitch Please! I know I am pretty!


“She has a way with words, red lipstick, and making an entrance.”
– Kate Spade

I am not vain, I just know that I am fortunate in many regards. One of them is that I am confident I have a good face. I have great skin, a cute little button nose and big brown doe eyes. Which I have been known to bat from time to time to get my own way. When I wash my face and brush my hair I’m not an unattractive human. When I throw on some red lipstick … watch out world!

So let’s talk about my body. I was slender once upon a time. I was a skinny little kid and a lithe teenager. However since my early 20’s I have ranged somewhere between fluffy and hefty. I spent most of my adult life fighting to morph my body into something more socially acceptable, more palatable, something that would make me feel beautiful. Around the time I turned 40, however, I realized something very important…

My worth cannot be measured on a bathroom scale.


My body is imperfect, it has curves and lumps and bumps. I have scars and stretch marks. It is also beautiful, strong, dynamic and sexual . My body has dance parties in the kitchen, it goes for long walks, swims and plays.

More importantly my fat is something I have, not something I am. I am a good person, a successful human by most measures, I am funny and smart and have amazing friends. I like myself and I love my life and that means I had to stop treating myself as less than just because I have more than!

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