You. Look. Goddamn. FABULOUS.

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I hear it time and time again.

‘Not me’

‘As soon as I lose # pounds.’

‘I wish I could look that great!’

The current of automatic comparison and disapproval runs deep.

When did it become WRONG to accept ourselves? Which turn in the road did we take, the day we decided to criticize our skin and everything in it? What shaped our identity, at the very core, to compare ourselves with others, and assumed that we’ve failed if we don’t measure up to ‘that skin’, ‘that hair’, ‘that body’?

I have a friend who’s gained and lost the same seventy-five pounds over and over again. She works really hard to achieve her goal, and is proud of herself every time. And every time she loses her extra weight, she’s praised to no end about how fantastic she looks.

‘So healthy! Wow! Terrific! You’re stunning!’

And then she gains it back. And the compliments fade away.

Does she still deserve those compliments?


The next time I see her, I’ll put my arms around her and love on her just the way she is, soft or hard, round or flat, and tell her that I love her and that she looks goddamn fabulous.

You’re pretty fabulous, too.

(You’re good enough. You’re smart enough…)

You are enough. All kidding aside.


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