I have a current favorite song which I listen to everyday. It’s called, “Who You Are” by Jessie J. Moral of the story? It’s OK to be who you are.

I’m not the skinniest person on earth, but I’m not fat either. I weigh 130lbs. which by most people’s standards is too much, even if I have 23-inch waist line. My arms are somewhere between toned and flabby because although I lift weights, it’s not enough to undo the damage of my weight fluctuations (from overweight to very thin.) I wear a size 10 UK in bottoms and size 8 UK in tops. My lower body has always been a source of frustration for me. Even at my lowest weight, they were just never that spaced apart. Even at my lowest weight, my hips were still wide and curvy. My legs will never be as slender or spacious in between is I’d like them to be, nor will my hips disappear but that’s OK. That’s just how they were meant to be. They’re also powerful and strong enough to take me to all the places I’d like to go, whether it’s trekking through the mountains or strolling along the sidewalks of my favorite cities. I can run a race with more speed and power than the average person. And who am I kidding? I look great in a pencil skirt or a pair of slim fit jeans.

I try to eat as healthily as I can, but every now and then I allow myself a lit bit of naughtiness and indulgence. I can have a burger with fries, and then maybe a bowl of ice cream for dessert. Sometimes I’ll have a few slices of cheesy pizza. I love frozen yogurt and prefer it mounded with scoops of granola, nuts and CANNED fruit filling. And that’s OK. It doesn’t mean that I’m undisciplined or lacking in will-power. I just know how to enjoy myself. Besides, I have a sweet tooth, I want to be a pastry chef and I’d be doing myself and the world a great disservice if I denied who I was.

I don’t exercise everyday, but that’s OK. I don’t have to be hard on myself. I’m not a cyborg or a robot. I’m human. I experience laziness, relaxation, fatigue and tiredness. Sometimes my body and mind tells me to take a break, so I do and I enjoy it just much as the days that I am up and about and active.

I don’t always have the nicest things to say to myself. Get me started and I can go into an endless, heartless tirade of meanness and insults about what a worthless piece of shit I am. I can slip into a few days of depression and suicidal thoughts. I recently develop a habit of squeezing my arm with my sharp, long nails, and I have the scars of my wrist to prove it. It’s all OK, because that’s not who I am. That’s not my reality. Everyone has there good days and bad days, too. It’s OK. What matters are the days that I’m carefree and fearless, the days that I am kind and forgiving towards myself. What matters is not how many times I’ve fallen but how many times I pick myself back up and how hard I fight.

Even if I’m in recovery for bulimia, there are days when I slip and cave into the urge to purge. Still, it’s OK. It’s not that I’ve developed more tolerance for bulimia, it’s just that I refuse to punish and berate myself any longer. So I slip, so I cave. So what? It’s OK. Every day, every minute, is an opportunity to do better. To be better. The person I was is not the same person I am today, nor the same as the person I will be tomorrow. What matters is what I do about it today, NOW.

I don’t fit the mould. I am not tall, skinny, and cellulite-free. I am not perfect, and that’s OK. I am good enough for me. THAT’S MORE THAN OK.