It takes strength to look down at a water-loaded stomach, 5:30pm, and admire it. Strength to know the different a between bloat and fat, to know that neither are a death sentence. It takes strength to calculate macros as opposed to caloric value, and to know that calories are a measurement of energy. It takes so much fucking strength to work on improving ones body without shamming it, to seek change in a physical appearance without disgracing the current one. Strength to love and care for a body that has tested you, that has fought along the way. Strength to say yes to new foods. Strength to say no to foods, as well. Strength to balance work with rest. Strength to listen to the bodies quiet little voice. I am trying.















