I told Twitter that I binge ate 15 cookies today, and they totally didn’t judge me. Which is crazy because I judged me, so why not them? I’ve found myself sneaking around as of late, hoarding cookies and other sugar-based goods like it’s communist Russia and I’m on food rations.

I do things at full bore, or full stop. But, as I get older I yearn for a quiet place between those two places, where I can choose to take some things from either side to create a more balanced version of myself. It’s coming, I swear - but boy does it take fuckin’ practice.

I'm fat. I have stretch marks, a double chin, cellulite, spider veins and chubby fingers. And - NOT BUT - and I'm fucking beautiful. I'm worthy of love.

When I think about the time and energy, I have spent mentally berating myself for being too much or not enough, it makes my heart hurt. I have never been a person who looked in the mirror or down at my body and thought, “Oh yes, I am beautiful”. Instead, I would take myself in and think, “That’s fine. Still room for improvement”.