I was so much older then...

I found photos of myself at 11, 16, 19, and 21 recently.

Looking at them now, I honestly thought: what was wrong with everyone? I was so cute.

But my body has always been public property. Family. Peers. Strangers.

And every time I lost weight, the world was noticeably nicer.

We’re told words don’t hurt—but that’s a lie.

I started yo-yo dieting at age 13. Diets and body shaming aren’t about health.They’re a quiet way of controlling women—keeping us smaller, distracted, and in submission.

Now I’m at the biggest weight I’ve ever been, managing flare-ups, on a lot of meds, and no longer able to “control” what I eat because my esophagus decided to quit.

And honestly? I don’t have a choice but to freakin accept it. Because my job right now is to not end up in the hospital every time I try to eat meat.

I’m sharing this because I remember everything anyone has ever said about my appearance. If you do too, you’re not alone.

I’m grateful to be part of a slow change—one that doesn’t subscribe to this nonsense or confuse thinness with worth.

And to everyone who commented on my body over the years: I’ll be sending you my therapy bills.

You’re welcome. 😘

11 year old Meghan...giving her a big hug today.