Fat. That single, simple, three-letter word still makes me cringe even to this day. What should be used as an adjective, a simple descriptor like tall, short, or skinny, has such negative a meaning in today's society that anyone who believes they're even related to the word cringes and looks around, waiting for someone to point at them and dub them with that word. It's amazing how a single word can replace confidence with utter fear.

I have always been plus-size, and, if we're being realistic here, fat. Though I have never been called it directly to my face, I have called myself fat more than enough times. I didn't need anyone else to berate me for my size: I did it myself, and with my own subconscious saying the word over and over in my head, it was all I really needed to associate the word "fat" with the word "wrong."

To me, that's a striking thing about society. We have been taught since a young age that fat has a negative connotation; it's used to describe a bad aspect of ourselves that we need to change to be accepted, to be more beautiful than what we are originally. Hearing everyone say it in terms that is something that needs to be fixed never quite leaves you.

And that's what makes me angry. While it should be a descriptor that we should have no problem saying, it carries so much meaning behind it. The venom spit simply by saying that word to another person implies a need to change to simply be equal to everyone else. It's so degrading and hurtful and it's a comment that will stick with you for the rest of your life. And the kicker? The cherry on top of that three-letter word? There's nothing wrong with being fat.

I always told myself when I was young that if I changed, if I wasn't tall and wasn't overweight, that all these great things would just magically happen to me. Everyone would like me more, I suppose, because I looked like them. I did hurtful things to myself in my pursuit of being "normal": I starved myself, I pushed myself to the limits to achieve that perfect standard of weight where acceptance was found.

I never got there. There was never a weight I got to where I felt any better about myself, and every time I looked at that number on the scale it was a punch to the stomach. It took me years to finally realize that simple statement: there is nothing wrong with being fat.

Everyone danced around the topic, say that I was not fat, saying that I was beautiful instead, but that wasn't right. And now, I know that wasn't right. Because the words "fat" and "beautiful" can be used in the same sentence: being one does not disqualify you from the other. Just because society tells you that being fat is some fixable disease, does not mean that you have to equate it as such. You can choose to use it in a sense where it describes another part of you. You can choose what builds you up and breaks you down.

Even I am still learning to choose. I'm still learning that I can be okay with myself, love myself, for who I am and what I look like. You don't need approval from anyone else. Be fat and beautiful: I'll be right there with you.

And frankly, that's what it should be. I don't want to see the next generation fear being fat, or using that word like fire to hurt other people or themselves. I don't want to cower in the corner while people sling derogatory words about my weight at me, especially a word I've feared my whole life. I choose not to be scared of that stupid word. I've heard so many stories with the same tale of being fat and needing to be changed: why isn't it time to celebrate the word for a change?

Whichever adjective you use to describe yourself, that's okay. Being fat is okay. It only takes your mindset to turn it in to a good descriptor rather than a degrading one. Be healthy, be happy, and love who or what you are. If fat just happens to be one of them, embrace it rather than fix it.