The war is over.

The one between me and

the scale,

the aging process,

the fridge,

the mirror,

my wrinkles,

my cellulite,

my thunder thighs,

my calloused knees and feet,

my lack of a thigh gap,

my pooch,

my muffin-top,

my itty-bitty mctitties and the fact that they sag,

my arm fat,

my too small for my face yellowing teeth,

my too big for my face, oversized smeller,

my lack of eyebrows,

my overcolored, damaged hair.

The war is over between me and my appearance,

between me and my self-confidence,

between me and, well, me.

The war is over because I'm no longer willing to fight a pointless fight.

Fighting against what nature and life intend for me.

Fighting against my innate beauty to attain an overly-admired and sought, less authentic to me kind.

I don't have the energy to fight against who I am or who I am becoming.

What I do have the gall to fight for is the determination to love

who I was yesterday,

who I am today,

and who I'll be tomorrow.

That's the only fight worth fighting.

Do you hear me?

The only fights worth fighting are the ones that win you your peace and total self-acceptance.

Battle like hell for it...even if it takes you years, but dang it, don't let it.