A year ago today, my family and I went out to dinner in Montreal. It was a beautiful evening, and the weather was perfect. So when my dad wanted to take a picture to capture the beauty of the day, I refused to stand straight on and instead took all my pictures to the side.

The reason? I felt I was too wide.

It’s crazy to think how much someone changes in a year. Back then, at the height of my ED’s restrictive behavior, I was afraid of white carbs and I freaked out when someone tried to feed me something that had a ton of butter and oil in it. I was a size 6 and unhappy with everything about myself. I thought my legs were too big. I thought my stomach was too fat. I thought I didn’t fit into the clothes.

Now, I’m 163 pounds of awesome. I have curves, and some lumps too, but I can also squat 195 pounds and run like a madwoman. I’ve gone up 2 or 3 sizes. But somehow, that doesn’t matter. Because I realize that it’s not about us fitting the clothes… it’s about the clothes fitting us.

Let’s face it. Bodies are subject to change. I will not always be this fit or strong, and I will probably not always have such a perky ass and rack.

But that’s the difference. Those physical attributes don’t mean as much to me anymore. I will love myself if I get back down to 130, but I will also love myself if I get up to 200. THAT is truly loving your body. Knowing that despite any changes it may go through, you will still nourish it thoughts of love and care because you know you deserve it.

I’m not going to pretend it’s easy. Since I was 13, I’ve been on this journey to self acceptance. It took therapy and counseling and a lot of crying and screaming. But somehow I did it. I’m at a good place. There are mountains to climb and oceans to travel but the progress I have made thus far is significant.

August 20, 2012, I had to fake a smile.