I recently put on a pair of leggings because of how they made me feel, not because of how they made me look. The vibrant colors made me happy, but the patterns definitely did not make me thinner. This was a turning point for me where the goal of the day was not to look smaller but to enjoy what I wore.
I think we’re taught that thinness equals happiness, but the simple truth is that it does not. The complicated truth is that the two are painful to extricate from each other.
After years of being told to shrink my size, this was the first day where that was not a concern. I often take the stance of choosing not to hate myself, but this was the first moment I could remember, in a very long time, where I accepted myself. I legitimately didn’t care about how thick my legs looked. I wanted to wear those damn leggings because the pattern elicited joy from my body. As if it had banished the shame.
Such an odd concept to be proud of, but as a girl with thicker legs, I have always been told that black was the only acceptable option on the bottom. Patterns will make your legs bigger. Colors are less flattering. Jeans are not slimming.
Well what if my goal was to feel good inside my body and not to make others feel good about my body? I’ve honestly never considered that until now. I’ve always tried to accomplish both, but the second is actually irrelevant. The only opinion that matters is mine.
I wonder if we so desperately seek external validation because we cannot create enough of our own. Well, I am here to tell you that you are enough. I give you permission to unapologetically love yourself. But the truth is, my validation means so much less than your own.