Sometimes I get asked how I came by the confidence I have about myself and my body. This kind of question can feel a bit insulting. I’m not a small person. I am what society calls “overweight” or “fat,” and in many ways, society shames those of us with non-supermodel bodies into thinking that we don’t deserve to be confident, or feel beautiful, or really be seen at all until we “get healthy” or lose weight.

I spent the majority of the first four decades of my life trying to come to terms with my body type and failing miserably. I rarely felt attractive. I never felt confident. I felt I needed to be invisible, because I offended people with my body simply by existing. Even when I was at my smallest size or lowest weight, it wasn’t enough, because I still didn’t fit in the clothes at the stores my friends shopped. I still had to shop “plus-size” stores or be relegated to the plus-size section of department stores which, by the way, usually means matching pant and sweater sets that did not at all fit in with my age or my style.

Then there are the ways that I would shame myself. Whenever I would eat out, before I would order my food I would go through a litany of reasoning as to why it was okay for me to order what I wanted, regardless of what I imagined other people were thinking about an overweight woman ordering a double cheeseburger. I would compare myself to my friends, who were always smaller than me, and presumably therefore more worthy, desirable, and attractive than I could ever be. If I shopped with them, I imagined that I could feel the employees in the stores looking at me and thinking, “She doesn’t belong here, nothing will fit her.” I even went so far as to make excuses for the people I dated regarding how they treated me or what I had a right to expect from them, because they were “compromising” by being with me, an overweight person who no one could possibly want simply because I was awesome.

In the past few years, I have worked really hard to improve my health. Not because I wanted to be skinny, but because I wanted to be healthier. I wanted to be able to chase after my son on the playground, get down on the floor and build forts with him, take him on walks and adventures, but most of all, I wanted to be around for him for as long as possible. Getting healthy was the only way I could see to improve the odds of that. Losing weight on my own has always been a struggle no matter how hard I tried, so for me, improving my health began with weight loss surgery in May of 2023, which was life changing for my health and for my confidence. Again, not because I “got skinny,” because I didn’t. I’m over a hundred pounds below my highest weight, I dropped three sizes, and I am no longer pre-diabetic or have high cholesterol. All of my lab numbers are perfect, but I am still what both doctors and society deem as “obese,” despite how healthy and happy I am with my body now.

The second thing I did for my health was walk away from an emotionally abusive marriage. It is amazing how much that improved both my physical and mental health. From the beginning of my separation, I slept better. I had more of myself available for my son, my clients, and myself. I stopped hiding away in order to avoid his unwarranted suspicions, or having other people see how cruel and controlling he was. I reconnected with friends who I had been isolated from due to my ex’s personal insecurities that had nothing to do with me, and with my family who I had drifted so far away from that I felt untethered. Thanks to one of those friends, I developed and maintained a great skincare routine. I started getting my hair done again. I bought new clothes that fit, instead of wearing the baggy ones that no longer fit me post-weight loss. I went back to therapy and was finally honest with my therapist and myself about the reasons I hadn’t left sooner, and learned to accept them. I focused more on becoming a better version of myself based on who I want to be, not on how I think other people might see me.

The third thing I did was meet a woman whose physical confidence showed through her online dating profile so clearly that I swiped right on Hinge twice before she finally agreed to go out with me. Through her, I learned that confidence is not a destination, but a journey, and that it isn’t about how much other people do or don’t like me or do or don’t approve of anything about me, it’s about knowing my worth and the value I bring to this world regardless of my size and not letting anyone who can’t see anything beyond my size influence how I feel about myself. Through her, I learned to have absolute conviction that my body is a piece of art, and that I should celebrate that art, not hide it. We’re engaged to be married in January of 2027.

Now, I know several things for certain:

1. I’m beautiful. Not beautiful “for a fat person;” just beautiful. Period.
2. I can order whatever food I damn well please, and chances are, no one really cares enough to think twice about it. And if they do, they have the problem, not me.
3. My body is not a compromise. My body may not be everyone’s “type,” but not everyone is my “type” either. That’s okay. I have an amazing fiancée who loves and celebrates every curve, squishy part and fat roll that I have, unequivocally.
4. I am worthy of the same love everyone else is. My body’s size has never made me less worthy, less beautiful less lovable, or obligated to accept less from other people.

My confidence comes from somewhere deeper. It didn’t come from anyone else telling me how worthy or beautiful I am, it came from me recognizing all of the awesome things about myself that have nothing to do with my size. I am confident because I know I am a good person. I treat others the way I want to be treated. I don’t judge people, and I have dedicated my life to helping people heal and grow. I know I’m smart: I’m resourceful, intelligent and driven to keep learning every day of my life. I’m a good friend, daughter, sister, and partner. I’ve learned to appreciate my body in ways I never have before, by figuring out my own sense of style, what works for me and what doesn’t, and what makes me feel beautiful and comfortable, whether or not others may think my choices are stylish. I’ve learned to accept not being perfect and not aspiring to be, and that no one else is perfect either. Everyone has their insecurities, no matter how they may look to the outside world. And everyone deserves to feel beautiful, worthy and loved, but most importantly, that feeling those things starts with believing them yourself.