Hi.

I’m me.

I’m 5′ 5″, or 165 centimeters. I was, and still am, too short to model, though once upon a time I actually had such a desire. (Nowadays I’m on the other side of the camera, capturing the beauty of others instead.)

I haven’t weighed myself since summer 2007. I don’t even remember how much I weighed back then. Frankly, I don’t care.

I used to cut off the size labels on most of the clothing I wear, but I still remember them. One of my strapless dresses is size large. And a year after I got it and cut off the tag, I really don’t care at all. It’s a versatile dress and the straplessness suits my shoulders well.

I have short legs and wide hips. I love my hips. I am bottom-heavy.

I have stretchmarks and cellulite on my thighs and hips. I have stretchmarks and cellulite on my arms, and my arms are soft and padded. My cellulite is proof that I am woman; I would never want to hide it. I am soft all over; My softness is my womanhood.

I have deep creases in my stomach where my tummy divides into rolls.

I have broad, broad shoulders.

I never shave… anything. My armpits only recently started growing thick, curly hair. My legs have been hairy for years. They’re also covered with scars from mosquito bites.

I have a dent in my jaw from a fall last summer. I have a pimple scar between my eyes. I have an overbite.

I never wear makeup. I wore more makeup when I was 10, trying too hard to grow up, than I do now.

I went to eat dumplings over the summer, and my parents’ friend asked if I liked to eat them frequently. The answer was yes; and her response was “No wonder she’s so fat.” I shrugged it off and laughed and didn’t care at all, and kept on eating those delicious dumplings.

This is me.

I know I am beautiful, and I love myself.

This is me. The cellulite on my thighs, the stretchmarks on my hips.

read more:

1. I am not my hair.
2. a manifesto: we don’t have to
3. what about your body are you grateful for?