This is the story of my long and winding journey to self-acceptance. While this story is my own, I hope that other young people who are going through the same struggle can relate to it. My journey has been painful and complicated, but I appreciate every part that has shaped me into the stronger person I am today.

Like many of my peers, during my first year of college I gained the dreaded “Freshman 15” – those few extra inches around your waist you get from gorging on chocolate sundaes from the dining hall ice-cream machine, ordering Papa John’s with extra butter garlic sauce at 2:00 a.m. with your new best friends and spending at least two nights a week at frat parties. All of these new habits I developed during my first months as a college student were definitely not the healthiest, but I made a group of great new girlfriends, joined various student organizations on campus and worked hard to excel in my classes.

Even though so many aspects of my college experience were going so well, one day, while shopping at the Mall of America with my mom for a new dress, I hit a breaking point. As I tried on a dress that was two sizes bigger than I normally wore, I gazed in the mirror and started to cry. I hated the way that I looked in this new body. I hated the thought of returning to my hometown that summer to whispers from my high school friends about how I had gained weight. I even started hating myself because of it.

So I did something about it. I channeled all of that guilt into taking charge of my diet and fitness. I started tracking my food, going on five-mile runs almost every day, and limiting my late-night ice cream and pizza cravings. Remarkably, these efforts worked. When I returned to school to start my sophomore year at the U of M, I had dropped thirty pounds and had gained the abs of an Instagram fitness model. I was in the best shape of my life and it seemed like everything was going perfectly.

However, more was going on inside my head than people could see on the surface. I constantly thought about food – even dreamt about it. I started working out twice a day and got in a fight with my best friend when she put cheese on my omelet one morning when she was making breakfast for me. Even though I had already met my weight goals, the pounds kept falling off my body. I started losing my hair. I was constantly irritable because my stomach would never stop growling. I was chronically cold because I didn’t have as much fat on my body to keep me warm. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had already plunged into the depths of an eating disorder.

That winter break, a moment of clarity hit me. I recognized that I was living an unhealthy and unsustainable lifestyle. The months went by and I didn’t know what to do. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw a stranger staring back at me – a warped image of myself that I hated. I knew that the eating disorder was contaminating my perspective, my thoughts and my relationships, but I felt powerless to fight it. It told me that I was a failure, that I was worthless because I was letting myself gain some of the weight back, and that I wouldn’t be successful in anything if I didn’t have the perfect body. Eventually, I mustered up the courage to get help.

Eating disorder treatment not only changed my life, I think it saved me. I learned that my physical appearance does not define me, that I am worthy of love and acceptance and that striving for perfection will not make me happy. There were lots of tears and lots of times when I wanted to quit. Gradually, the girl in the mirror became familiar again. I gained all of the weight back that I had lost (and then some). However, I noticed that when I finally let go of the need to achieve the perfect body, other areas of my life began to flourish. My friendships improved. I stopped pushing people away. I was able to concentrate on actually learning in my classes again. I could work out and enjoy the endorphins I got from it without counting how many calories I had burned. I was actually happy for the first time in a long time.

Two years later, I still do not have the ideal body, and that’s okay with me. I have let go of the need to be perfect and instead focus on the great things I have in my life: loving friends and family, a wonderful college experience, and so many opportunities ahead of me. Even though my six-pack abs are gone, I have slowly developed the capacity to love myself just the way I am and to forgive myself when I eat one too many cookies or skip a day at the gym. Life is an adventure, and I’ve resolved to simply enjoy it instead of taking every day so seriously. Although they were incredibly challenging, I appreciate the ups and downs that have taught me the most important life lesson I have learned so far: I am enough.

Through my struggles, I have begun to realize all life has to offer. There are three truths that have shaped the way I perceive everything. One: you are not alone. So many people are going through the same struggle. Two: it gets better. The healing process is gradual, but you will be stronger because of it. Three: you’re not perfect, and you never will be. But you are enough, exactly the way you are.