Learning to love myself and work out who I was, took years of dedication and crying. But one day I realized I was finally there and I wasn’t going to die trying. I’d been a little girl who wanted to be loved but never felt like enough. But now as a woman nearing forty, I at last felt worthy of love.

No matter how thin, fat, short, or tall you are, we all have compared our body to someone else, have judged criticized and shamed ourselves because of how our body looks. Here are 10 tips to help you begin to love your body.

At school dances, boys asked my friend to slow dance while I sat stranded with the snacks. I looked around at my classmates thinking, if I had boobs like the rest of the girls, I’d have attention. If I had boobs, maybe my crush would still talk to me.

One thing I do know - the patience, strength, and perseverance from those dealing with and in recovery from eating disorders is awe-inspiring. Talking openly and honestly about this topic helps so many of us - not only those going through eating disorders, but also their loved ones. We see you and we’re here for you all.

The lead singer comes in and, all of a sudden, the song makes perfect sense, it’s all built up for this moment, where sound becomes melody. I’ve lost all sense of time or space, my arms flung out at random angles, legs twisting this way and that, hair a tangled mess as I violently nod my head to the beat.

Women across the world have been made to believe that we’re supposed to fit into a specific mold. But through these featured posts about body image, you’ll see women of all sizes and shapes and they all have one thing in common - they’re beautiful exactly the way they are.

More often than not, it feels like I am dramatically breaking up and getting back together with my body. It's a complicated relationship, trying to saddle up to my innate beauty while simultaneously minimizing the things that I find challenging, discouraging, less-than. Some days I feel like my best self, and others, well, I feel as though I am 10 miles behind the starting line and every cell in my body is working to form a union in which the motto is MAKE CELLULITE OR DIE.

Take a moment and consider this: what if exercise had nothing to do with weight loss? What if the pressure to get toned arms and a flat tummy as a result of consistent physical activity was completely taken out of the equation? Would you still bother?

My daughter, Zoey, sits on a bench beside me, moving her legs back and forth to the beat of the song she quietly sings. In the mirror before me, I see her kicking feet, and I am grateful her movement has momentarily pulled my attention toward her reflection and away from my own. But soon my gaze shifts back to my body to the task at hand, and I’m wishing I was somewhere else.

I have a bump in my nose that makes people ask if it's ever been broken, my curly hair is never defined and smooth like those shampoo commercials would make you believe, and I have stretch marks in places I didn't know could stretch (side note: EVERYTHING can stretch).

There comes a time in every child’s life when their family pushes them out of the nest- or rather, sends them into the salon by themselves. The salon chair may very well be the first throne we sit on. Once settled in, with a robe thrown over you, the power to determine your fate lies in your hands- and a stylist’s willing shears.

We can be so cruel to our bodies. From what we say to ourselves, to what we eat, drink, and think, to the ways that we harm ourselves and the company we keep. We can take our abilities for granted until something limits or restricts an ability we are so used to on a daily basis.

This year / will mark the 40th trip I've taken / around our sun. / And I'll be happy to be one year older.

My bionic heart and I had a recent breakthrough ignited by my morning meditation practice. I’ve been doing this for close to 18 months now. I place my cupped hands over my heart, one crossed over the other. I do this often to get myself centered and focused with my intention for the day. However, it was not until very recently that I felt full acceptance of myself, bionic heart and all.

Women tend to become invisible as we age. The charm of graying temples is a term of endearment reserved for men. Our society is conditioned to equate beauty with youth, intrigue with speed, and attraction with shallowness. And as you age, you realize fewer people notice you.

It never occurred to me that I handed over control of my self-image to everyone around me. And they all had an opinion. If I let the unsolicited feedback affect me positively and carried myself with confidence I often received a clear message from my contemporaries that I was vain, conceited, self-absorbed, or worse. If I dared to complain about a perceived flaw I was met with chuckles and eye rolling; “what do you have to be self-conscious about?”. I was not allowed to feel good or bad about myself.

The fact is, I'm not mad at you for changing. I know it seems like I am. But I know it isn't your fault. It isn't your fault that we're sick and that we can't do life the way we used to. Neither one of us asked for this. And the truth is, you've handled this thing amazingly. I hate to think of where I would be had you not shown so much strength over the last seven years.

Oh, body.
You’ve been healthy and sick
Disabled and strong.
Everything in between.

I will never forget the day my friend re-sized my body and air-brushed my skin in one of her pictures.

Life is truly too wonderful to spend wishing to be someone else.