A couple weeks ago, I was in a fitting room trying on some jeans and t-shirts. Spinning around and looking in one of those from-every-angle mirrors, I saw something I’d never noticed before.

I have back fat.

I just stared at it for awhile, this prominent little roll beneath my bra. “Huh. That’s new.” And the prevailing feeling was not one of dismay or disgust, but one of gratitude. I was grateful that I discovered this now, rather than a few years ago. A few years ago it would have unraveled me, and rendered me something just short of a weeping mess on the floor of the fitting room.

I’ve gained some 40 pounds in the past 4 years. Partly from age and a changing metabolism, partly from medication, and partly because I made a conscious decision to stop starving myself into a size six. I had trouble with the weight gain at first. I had trouble accepting it, trouble viewing myself as attractive, trouble thinking I was still worthy, and trouble thinking I was somehow “less than” than when I was residing in a smaller body.

I did the diets, did the exercise, and essentially tried to hate myself into a smaller jean size. I would lose weight temporarily, but eventually gain it back, plus a little more for good measure. (This seems a good a time as any to mention that that’s just the way diets work. The vast, vast majority – some sources say as much as 95% – of people who lose weight through dieting will gain it back, often gaining more than they lost in the first place. Diets don’t work long term.) My body just wanted to be bigger. Which meant that I could 1) Continue to fight with it, make myself miserable, and live in a constant cycle of shame, or 2) Learn to embrace it, to love myself and body exactly as they are, and to focus on gentle nutrition and regular movement as measures of self-care instead of punishment.

I chose option 2.

It’s been a journey to get here to be sure, and I’d be lying if I said I was 100% comfortable taking the photo that accompanies this post, but I am light years ahead of where I was. It would not be an exaggeration to say that my shift in mindset has been life changing.

Because I do love my body. Back fat and belly rolls and muffin tops and all. My body does everything I need it to do. It takes me on walks. It treks through the desert. It runs up and down the stairs fifty times a day. It does yoga and lifts weights and moves any way I ask it to move.

I eat food for nourishment, not to shrink my body. I eat in ways that make me feel pleasant, physically and emotionally both. I don’t count calories. I don’t stress out about macros. I eat foods that feel good in the moment. I eat plenty of protein, carbs and fats. I eat salads and chicken and veggies and warm chocolate chip cookies and birthday cake. I eat when I’m hungry, and I stop when I’m full. I refuse to go back down the road of obsessive control over what I eat or how I move, what the scale says or how my pants fit. I refuse to let the words of the multi-billion dollar diet industry become part of my vernacular, or part of my soul. I’m opting out.

My relationship with food and with my body, once disordered and antagonistic, has healed. My body is perfect the way it is. It is healthy and strong. It is capable of so many things. It is beautiful. Beauty (and health for that matter) comes in all shapes and sizes, and don’t let any “before and after” photos tell you otherwise.

And while I’m on the subject of before and after pictures, we have to stop commenting on people’s bodies, even if we think we’re being complimentary. We have no idea how or why someone lost weight or gained weight, and we have no idea what we may be praising. Thin is not the gold standard. Thin is not “better.”

If you want to aim for something, aim for health. (Hint: health doesn’t have one singular “look.”) Thin bodies can be healthy. Larger bodies can be healthy.

Beyond all that though? Our bodies and our weight are literally the least interesting things about us. Yes, our bodies are worthy. They are worthy of existing and taking up space, exactly as they are: thin, fat, short, tall, curvy, flat… but at the end of the day, they are just pretty exteriors for our hearts and our souls.