Body positivity can be a loaded sentiment in today’s world. For many, it’s a clarion call to stand up for themselves in a world that has spent years beating them down. For others, it’s a thing that ought to be mocked for ‘enabling’ lazy fatties to lead unhealthy lives. In my case, it’s the former.

The concept of body positivity wasn’t a thing when I was young. Or at least, not where I grew up. People have little care or concern for a little girl’s struggle with weight when she lives just a few minutes from the longest pleasure beach in the world. A place where tourists flock from all over the country to wear skimpy bathing suits and everyone around her is tall, blonde, and a size 2. While I had the blonde thing going for me, the rest fell far short (pun intended).

I’ve been chubby all my life and once I hit my teen years, chubby turned to fat, which only continued to balloon into my twenties and thirties. That isn’t to say I didn’t want to be thin. I desperately wanted to be skinny. To be pretty. To be worthy of love and friendship. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I struggled, no matter how much I dieted, I could never lose weight. I tried everything: every fad diet, exercise, half starving myself. You wouldn’t know it, but as a kid, I was very active. Everything from soccer, softball, and gymnastics, to horseback riding and archery. Yet every time I decided to try to lose weight, I ended up gaining more. All the while, people around me kept telling me how it was so easy. How I just didn’t work hard enough.

Decades of this became internalized. Taking what was once a bright, cheerful girl who was outgoing and friendly, and turning her into a withdrawn, self-loathing woman filled with social anxiety. I spent over a decade hidden away in my home, barely going out, because I was so ashamed of the way I looked. Because I had grown so weary of the judgment of others and the snide comments. I became a hermit, my only in-person social contact was with my partner. Everything else was through screens, where I would be safe from prying eyes and could be myself without fear of shame and revulsion.

Of course, that all came crashing down when my partner left me. I was shunted back out into a world that hated me. Or so I thought. In my decade of hiding, the world had begun to change. It wasn’t safe, exactly, but it was less unfriendly than it had once been. People smiled at me and said hello. I wasn’t called lazy or stupid, despite my unflattering physique. My world was crumbling, but what was left was perhaps a shade brighter than I had thought.

It’s been seven months since my reemergence into the world. I can’t say I get out as much as I should, but I am improving. And with this, came a change in attitude. A new mindset. And new understanding of the human body. My body. In seven short months, I shed over 80 lbs. Where I once struggled to lose even a single pound, I found myself suddenly able to drop close to a fifth of my body weight.

I could probably say it has a lot to do with necessity. Or the fact that I started seeing a therapist for a lot of childhood trauma. But personally, I think it mostly stems from the lack of negativity. Instead of having trauma and food wrapped up in an unhealthy snarl of angst, my relationship with food has greatly improved. I don’t just eat healthier, I feel healthier – in every possible way.

I could go on and on about what I did to lose weight, but I feel like that could be a post in and of itself. Instead, I just want to leave this off with two things:

 First, for all those out there who struggle with weight, or any physical characteristic that makes you feel self-conscious. It’s okay. You don’t need to be anyone’s picture of perfect except your own. Be happy with who and what you are. You are valuable, you are important, you are amazing. No matter what you look like.

And for those of you who curl your lip in derision when you see a fat person. Those of you who mock someone out of shape in a gym. Who just can’t keep their need to tear others down in check. For every person out there, who tells people like me to stop eating junk food and to get off the couch, I just want to tell you: YOU ARE THE PROBLEM.