As an adult, I now know that struggling with body image is a pretty common experience for people of all ages. But I definitely didn’t know that as a teen. In fact, if you’d been inside my brain at 16 years old, you’d hear me beating myself up about not loving my body all the time. I was simultaneously trying to force myself to accept my body as is while forcing myself to diet in hopes that something would change. Looking back now, I can see this was a recipe for disaster. 

It didn’t start off quite that aggressive. I think it began before I had any awareness of it at all, as I watched most of the adults in my life perpetually trying to lose weight. It was an age of overbearing diet culture, and everyone fell victim to it. So, in my head, constantly wanting to “improve” your body was a good thing. I had no idea that it could be unhealthy.

So, when I started restricting my food at a young age, I didn’t think twice. But after a while, that becomes so exhausting — both literally and figuratively. 

I felt alone, and I felt like a failure because I didn’t want to lose weight. I wanted to simply accept my body for how it looked, even if it might not meet traditional beauty standards that the media and society were telling me it needed to in order for me to be desired. 

Finally, I reached a breaking point — a moment of clarity amidst the chaos — that I realized my worth isn't defined by the number on the scale or the reflection staring back at me. No, my worth is so much more than that. It's in the laughter that echoes through the halls, the kindness I extend to others, and the dreams that ignite a fire within me.

Accepting myself was a journey, let me tell you. It involved a difficult level of honesty with myself and, eventually, with others. In fact, it felt like baring my soul to the world, exposing all those raw and tender parts of myself. But you know what? It was also incredibly liberating. Because in those moments of vulnerability, I discovered a strength I never knew I had.

I want to stress that I did not work through my struggles alone. It can be hard to open up to others about these things, but the support is so necessary. Whether it's a trusted friend, a family member, or a supportive online community, having someone to confide in can make all the difference. You're not alone in this journey. We're all in it together.

While it might seem impossible to imagine now, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It is possible to be at peace with your body, to not overanalyze every bite of food you eat or how your clothes fit. One day, you’ll put on an outfit that makes you happy, and that’ll be it. I promise. You can get there.