I cried a lot last year.

I looked in the mirror and saw someone I hated.

I wasn't as skinny as the skinniest girl.

I should stop eating.

I wasn't as tall as the tallest model. 

I should start stretching.

My hair wasn't as thick as the girls' from commercials.

Extensions maybe? 

I wasn't perfect.

But so what?

Who cares?

Not me anymore.

I like my body, and I eat like a cow.

I like my height, and I'm only five foot.

My hair is fine, it's a beautiful color.

I didn't run out of tears, no.

I just quit crying.

I saw my potential and my beauty.

I learned to love myself.