real beauty

image from Dove's campaign for real beauty

Once upon a time, I was obsessed with the size of my body. No matter what I did, I was never thin enough. My stomach was never flat enough. My arms were never muscular enough. Yet still, many would have considered me pretty, even slender.

And then my medication changed. Suddenly, I gained twenty pounds. Suddenly, I was my worst nightmare...fat.

You might argue with me; everyone does. And while by my Body Mass Index I am not technically "overweight," I'm actually quite close to that line. I weigh more than I ever have in my life. I am, to myself, fat.

It happened. My worst nightmare, a living reality. And guess what? The world did not end. My friends did not desert me. Clad did not stop loving me (granted, he isn't here, but he's gotten letters full of my body image issues and continues to assert that I am the most beautiful girl in the world because of what I'm like on the inside, not whatever I think I look like on the outside.) I did not suddenly become a social outcast or a subject of taunts and ridicule.

Sure, there were negative consequences. I still can't really bring myself to love that I'm a size 8. It is still hard for me to look in the mirror, and don't even get me started about the scale. I don't really get hit on anymore (though to be entirely honest, I appreciate that. I never found it very flattering). I'm limited in the things I can wear that are flattering for me. But that's about where the list ends.

There are actually quite a few positive consequences. I no longer feel I am objectified because of my looks. I have discovered I would much rather be loved for my personality than my dress size, because looks fade no matter what you do. What if Clad or my friends and family only loved me for my looks? What would happen when I got pregnant and my figure totally changed? What about when I was old and wrinkled? What would happen to their love for me then? Thankfully, I now already know...their love for me won't change a bit. And I have to say, that's a wonderful feeling.

Overall, while I'm unsatisfied with the way I look, I think this experience has truly been a blessing. It has forced me to learn to love myself for who I am. It has reminded me that Heavenly Father created my body in His image, and who am I to dictate how much it should weigh? It has taught me that when I get to Heaven, I don't want to tell my Heavenly Father that my life's accomplishment was being a size 2 or weighing 98 pounds. I want to tell my Heavenly Father that I loved my husband. That I tried my absolute hardest to be a good mother. That I served others. That I gave all I could give to follow Christ's example.

So, in the end, I am thankful that I am fat. And what I want for all of you, all of you beautiful daughters of our Heavenly Father, is to see yourselves the way He sees you. Remember who you are. Remember what really matters. Don't get caught up in the lies of the world that tell you thin equals happy, that you will only be successful/loved/whatever if you meet the impossible worldly standard of beauty. You are beautiful at this very moment, and you will always be beautiful. You are beautiful on the inside, and that, my friends, is what matters most.

Love,

Lizzy ;)