I'm unique, but I'm just like everyone else. I'm athletic, but I'm lazy. I'm ambitious, but I don't know what I want to do. I'm growing older, but I don't want to grow up. I'm outspoken, but I can't find the words to express myself. I know where I come from, but not where I'll go. I love you, but I'm scared. I'm me. Not you.
Sometimes, loving your body is not an option. Sometimes, the best we can do is accept our bodies as the changeable, beautiful, frustrating vessels they are. That’s OK. Expecting yourself to have a full-on love affair with your body at all times is asking too much. Bodies are occasionally annoying. What we can do is know them, and decide for ourselves when they feel good, and when they feel less good, and what we might do to make them feel better again. Even if we can’t love our bodies, we can make sure we don’t hate them.
We look at mental illness as a character flaw, not as a chemistry issue in the brain