I am fat.
And for the first time in my young life…
I am okay with that.
As I write this, I am sitting in my size 20 dark-wash skinny jeans.
You read that right. Skinny jeans — that somehow miraculously hug my butt, hips, thighs, and calves without making my stomach protrude unnaturally. Skinny jeans that make me look, well, really good.
On top of these magical jeans, I am wearing a size XL faded teal 3-quarter-sleeve fitted shirt with buttons halfway down the front, mostly unbuttoned so I feel neither choked nor awkward. It hangs just at my hips, which is remarkable considering my tall torso.
I am happy with how I look, even though I still have bulges I’d rather not have.
But it most certainly has not always been the case.