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.