The last few years have brought a wave of body positivity into the world, encouraging millions of girls and women to embrace their shape no matter what it is.

I am all for loving yourself, including the skin and body you are in. Wear what you want or don’t want. Do whatever makes you happy without worrying about judgment from others.

I don’t think it’s that easy though.

I try to focus on the amazing features my body has. It can run, it can jump! It can pick up somewhat heavy things—even though I don’t train weights anymore—and put them down. It even can birth another human (someday). Despite all of these wonderful things my body does and has the potential to do, I still critique and pull myself apart.

I have never been overweight. As a young girl and even up until college, you’d probably say I was too skinny until I grew into a more athletic shape. I was called olive oil and constantly told “I needed more meat on my bones.” There were countless moments when I was criticized for being thin, and what I was eating (or lack of) was called into question. Some people might think that’s not the worst thing. At least it’s better than needing to lose weight, right? Wrong. I was working over 20 hours a week in college as an athlete, lifting, running, jumping, rehabbing, stretching nursing injuries, and eating. My body was a result of that hard work I put into it every day.

With track & field, there was always that strive for perfection. Because it’s such an individual sport, you are physically the only person standing in the way of your goals. Not only do you feel the pressure of yourself, but of your team as well who depends on your place to scrape together a few collective points. This pressure is why I constantly wanted to not only jump higher, lift heavier, run faster, and longer than my teammates, but also the marks I had previously set myself.

As a high jumper, I was surrounded by girls who were my weight, but 5 inches taller with the capability of also jumping 5 inches higher. My body brought power, not height. Unfortunately, height is not something I or anyone really has control over. I could be 5’10 in my heels at the bar, but in the pit, I was not as lucky. Since I couldn’t change my height, I continued working on my strength and (not to sound corny) determination to lift me over that bar.

Life changes though. Track was once my entire world. It was where I spent the majority of my free time, where I made my friends, and what I loved doing. I no longer have 20+ hours a week to dedicate to sports and exercise. I sometimes don’t even feel like I have that to dedicate to myself.

I remember when I was still in college and training during Christmas break. I was sitting in a gym once in between reps of abs. I was finishing up my set by doing 100 cherry pickers and planking. I remember thinking about how I hoped I’d never see the day where something this easy would be impossible to do. And then it happened.

Now, as a twenty-something-year-old with “more meat on my bones,” I am also struggling. I don’t understand why the pants I’ve worn for the past 8 years no longer fit? Why can I see imperfections in my legs when I’m doing downward dog in yoga? Why does my stomach look so bloated in this crop top? Why can I only do 40 cherry pickers at a time? WHY DO MY KNEES HURT ALL OF THE TIME? I am running! I am biking! I am …occasionally doing light weights/stretching!

I think it is hard to love yourself completely sometimes. I also think that’s okay. As long as you’re being good to yourself. You’re nourishing your body, moving your body, and imperfectly trying to love every new dimple, spider vein, scar, tummy roll, chest bone, and jiggle, while realizing you can want to change these things without hating your body.

For me, I will continue trying to love myself, this new body that’s changing all of the time, and understanding that it’s okay if I’m not always happy with it. I will also continue setting aside more time to focus on my physical wellness AND mental and emotional well-being.

I’m not sure if any of this made sense or if I talked myself into a loop/contradicted myself at all at some point, but that’s the real process of me thinking about my body.

I’m out.