My days of standing proud with a full, round tummy as a toddler came to a halt at the start of elementary school. I remember inspecting my appearance in the mirror in second grade. I turned sideways and saw my least favorite feature pop out — my stomach. I didn’t understand why I didn’t look like the other girls in my grade. All of the girls developed at different rates in my grade; my body changed all at once like a tsunami.
I spent countless nights crying about being “fat” because I couldn’t fit into the “perfect size.” Something my mom used to tell me when I whined about not being able to wear certain clothes was “we are all built differently.” It never stuck with me until I finally accepted that we can’t all physically be the same size.
Now, I love shopping like I used to. New clothes are like retail therapy after clearing my closet of old ones I don’t wear anymore. Sizes don’t define me. When I walk into any clothing store, I try on all different sizes, because each style fits me differently. Not all stores run the same — some run on the smaller side, and some run bigger. Wearing the right size of clothing built my confidence, and I lost the baggy clothes that I would typically wear to hide my insecure areas.
Let’s look at sizes in a different light. Each number size should be replaced with a nice adjective about yourself because in the end, they are just numbers. Words mean so much more.