I distinctly remember the first time I saw

Most girls’ bodies start to change.

I was twelve years old.

 

I stared with amazement and awe.

Their long legs,

The golden color of their skin,

The shininess of their blonde hair.

Everything was so beautiful.

 

And then I looked at myself,

My wild brown curls,

My so-pale-people-think-I’m-sick skin,

My wall of baby fat that clung to my face and stomach.

Everything was so not beautiful.

 

I saw them,

And then I saw myself.

 

What a world of a difference there was between us.

 

I spent so many years picking myself apart.

I compared my body to other girls’ bodies.

I saw so many things I liked about them,

And so many things I disliked about me.

I felt like I had drawn the short stick.

I was so disappointed in myself.

 

It was not until very recently that I stopped doing this.

I realized there are so many things that make me distinct,

And these are the things that make me beautiful.

 

Though I still have a long way to go before

I can truly say that I love myself,

I believe it will happen.

 

I am not the same little girl who joined the Puberty Party late.

 

I am (almost) a woman.

 

I am strong.

 

And I will love myself.

 

I will.