I'm sitting on the floor of the women's locker room here in the rec on campus: red faced, sore, and sweaty hair-lined. My boyfriend on the other hand, with a body that is gorgeous as ever, is out doing a whole lot of something productive. I thought I had gotten to the age that my insecurities would stop fighting to get the best of me and would put up their white flag; however, I'm currently being proven wrong once again just by seeing the look on my face, embarrassed and afraid, to go out and have my boyfriend see my athletic abilities, or the lack thereof.

A lot of stuff does not embarrass me, my body on the other hand, does. I am ashamed of who I am. I was so ashamed that I would talk myself down, self-harm, want to die, and so many other things that your body should NEVER have to go through.

I want to feel beautiful, but how do you feel that way if you never knew how to feel that way in the first place? And when did beauty come in a size much smaller than mine?

That's the complicated part: trying to block out all of those things you heard other people say about you and then automatically trying to forget that they ever happened. It's like trying to erase a Sharpie.

I wish we started trying to raise a generation of girls that used words to encourage and inform others of their problems instead of as daggers to use as weapons in the war known as the junior high and high school years.

Though those words that constantly bothered me from that time will stick to me forever, I have officially chosen to use them as the stepping stone to finally be who I want to be. I have decided that I am determined to be healthy and happy.

That’s not always the easiest mindset to get to though. I mean, look around the city: KFC, McDonald’s, Hardee's, and all the other beautifully lit-up fast food palaces that grace Lincoln. After all, staying round is technically staying in shape, right? Then we get to the point where we are too humiliated about our own bodies and how much we eat and then and we sit and nit pick everything we could ever want to change about our selves. Then that’s when the shade and hurtful words get thrown at you. One of my friends tweeted it best when saying “Why does being skinny matter? Why can't we all just eat Doritos and Zebra Cakes together and be happy?!”

I think it is high time we start embracing our bodies for how beautiful we are and stop obsessing over what the number on our jean’s tag states. We should all just take care of our bodies, feel empowered to love our bodies, encourage everyone to do the same, and eat the damn cake without shame every once in a while. You know, maybe my boyfriend has his own insecurities he deals with, I mean, we all do. For now I’m going to face all of mine by getting off of this floor, even if that means I get that coveted donut after my workout.