If my body were not mine, and was instead someone else's, I would love it. I wouldn't hesitate to point out the beauty. I would notice the beauty in the way that my hair hangs after the shower, the way that my jeans hug my chubby hips, and the way that the shirt clings to my chest. If this body didn't belong to me, I would love the way that the feeling of confidence looks over my face, the way that I'm passionate about the work that I do and the way that I look in a dress.

I am one hundred percent certain that if this were not my body, I would love it. The things that I hate about my body are the things that I love in others. When I see another person wearing a bikini or a pair of shorts, I don't criticize the way that they work. When I see a plus size man or woman taking control of an industry that's normally run by a smaller-sized person, I never hesitate to congratulate them. I never look down upon them, I never question their worth. I look up to those who use their bodies as a way to raise awareness. However, when I try to use mine in the same way, I automatically find comfort in self-hatred. I think that I cannot pursue the same things, because I'm not pretty enough or smart enough. I think that my fat isn't distributed in the right way and that maybe if I could get rid of my tummy fat, I'd be more acceptable. Or if I got better at makeup maybe I would have a better impact on others. Which is so insane to me, because if I looked at this exact body on someone else, I would never second guess their worth or success by what they look like.

If this body were not mine, I wouldn't critique it. And I think that's an important question to ask yourself and an amazing way for us to value ourselves more. If we fall in love with our bodies the way we fall in love with someone else's, we would learn so much about ourselves and find beauty in so much more.

If my body was not my body, I'd love it.