I've felt my fair share of shame in my life.

As someone who has been told to take up less space, be quiet, be eternally happy, and look pretty, I have most certainly broke these unspoken “standards”. I am human, after all, so it’s really no surprise that some days, I shout my feelings to the sky and cry in front of strangers.

Being a fat woman, I’ve been sent a lot of damaging messages from society, media, and my peers. I live my life in a world that polices my body and labels me as ugly, lazy, stupid, and worst of all- unloveable.

For years I’ve dreaded eating out with my thin friends. They were allowed to eat in public comfortably while I felt anxious eating anything at all. They were able to shop at almost any store, while I had to look for “specialty” stores that came with an extra charge: shame.

The weight of my identity as fat (believe me- pun intended) has been with me practically my whole life. I notice the stares and snickers others have when looking at me. I dread going to the doctor for a sprained ankle only to get a lecture about my weight (true story). These are still realities for me, and I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

However, despite all of these outside factors telling me I should loathe myself for the way I look, I am choosing to love my fat body.

This choice is not simple. I did not wake up one day and automatically love my body. It took me a while to look in the mirror and decide that I was worth it. That I was beautiful just the way I am. That I was worthy of love.

Although there was not a magical moment where I suddenly became so self-assured, I did have an experience that changed my thinking and lead me down the route of body acceptance, and for that, I am forever grateful.

If you have or currently are attending a four year university or college, you might remember your first year orientation being marked by seminars and sweaty orientation leaders. Well, near the end of my first year, I decided that I wanted to be one of those sweaty orientation leaders for the next incoming classes, so I applied. And, a few months later, I was hired and my journey of personal growth began.

At first I had my doubts about being able to complete the job. Would I really be able to keep up with a bunch of new students in my fat, lumbering body? Would the students find me disgusting and decide not to take me seriously? What if they don’t like fat people? Questions like these hovered in and out of mind as I went through my months of training.

At my school, at least, first year orientation is taken very seriously. We pride ourselves in creating a welcoming and inclusive environment for all students. In order to get closer to achieving this goal, the department requires all orientation leaders to go through several workshops on topics like racial oppression and sexual assault. These sessions were difficult for a number of reasons, but they were incredibly important in helping me develop into a better leader and a better person in general.

One of our sessions dealt with the very serious topic of disability. This particular workshop hit me hard because I had never once been in a space where this was so openly discussed with the understanding of how power, oppression, and privilege played into the social identity of having a disability. Learning about able-bodied privilege gave me a revelation and really got me thinking about my own privilege in this area.

This was something I had never considered as a fat person. Even though I am shamed for having a larger body, I have the privilege of being able to use it. I can run a 15 minute mile. I can dance around my apartment to the music of Hamilton. My thick legs can take me places and I can embrace my family with my big, flabby arms. This is a blessing I haven’t appreciated enough.

I’m not denying that I don’t experience my own kind of discrimination and oppression because of my body. I do. Fatphobia manifests itself in many ways. It is both the personal interactions of being told “you have such a pretty face, why don’t you try this new diet pill?” and the institutional ones where employers are less likely to hire me or medical professionals will overlook diagnoses to label any illness as a complication of being overweight. My point, however, is that you can be both. You can have the able-bodied privilege of not having to worry about streets being clear in the winter or having ramps and elevators in every building and be oppressed as a fat person.

My journey of body love has just began, and I am by means an expert. Do you have to go through disability training to love your body? No (I do recommend taking a workshop anyway), but it might help to start looking at your naked body in the mirror or put lotion on your least favorite body parts everyday. In her book Shrill, writer and activist (and my personal hero) Lindy West, discusses that her journey towards body positivity began with looking at pictures of fat women online until she found them beautiful. I cannot walk the path. Everyone is unique.

I do not know if this article will help anyone, but I certainly hope that it will. If you are fat, I urge you to stop apologizing for existing. You deserve to be here as much as anyone else. You are worthy of love, so don’t be afraid to love yourself.