Having A Chronic Illness Taught Me To Love My Body

I’m chubby, almost 40, and finally happy with my body. It didn’t change — I did.

Photo by Fuu J on Unsplash

Listen, I’ve been chubby my entire life. I’ve thought of myself as “fat” for as long as I’ve known the word existed.

And to be perfectly clear, my parents did not call me fat or make me feel that way. I just want to put that out there.

The thing is, I know for a fact that I am no supermodel. But I like my face, my strength, and who I am as a person (mostly). I think I look fine. I’m not delusional, but I’m also not super insecure about my overall look. I just look like a normal person.

I’ve always known my husband loves me exactly as I am. In fact, when I met him, I was at the high end of the same 25 pounds I’ve lost and regained probably 20+ times in my life.

I’m chubby. At some points, my BMI was in the “obese” range — and, of course, that pissed me off so much.

I am currently a size 12, which is actually pretty average for women in the US. When I’m at the higher end of my weight cycle, I’m a solid size 14.

I’m sort of built like a linebacker — very broad, straight shoulders, narrow hips, a protruding belly, and big ol’ thunder thighs. I could kill someone with these…