In an age of constant internal struggle about wrinkles, cellulite, etc., in our youth-obsessed society, it's hard to be self-accepting.
But I've worked at it. I'm pretty happy with what I see in the mirror. And what I didn't like in the mirror, I've come to love.
I will always have The Thighs. Even if I lost half of my body mass, whatever was left would be right there. And I've gotten to a point where I'm fine with that (though I did absolutely delight many years ago in a cellulite sighting on Gwyneth Paltrow in The Talented Mr. Ripley--if she's got it, we've all got it).
And then I turn on the TV and see this.
Sigh, back to the drawing board.
I understand it's about health. And I went online and took the test; I'm healthy.
But there's got to be a better way than this.
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