I've always been small. Petite in that way where clothes either fit perfectly or swallow me whole with absolutely no in-between 😂

Petite in that way where people at family gatherings say "do you even eat?" and I'm standing there having just finished my second plate, genuinely offended.

I eat. I eat well. I eat with enthusiasm and zero apology 🍽️

And yet here I am, still the same small person I've always been. I don't have a strict routine. I'm not particularly disciplined about anything physical, if I'm being completely honest. I just… am this way. My body apparently made a decision early on and committed to it fully, which is honestly more consistency than I've managed in most other areas of my life 😅

What surprises me most is that I actually like it. Not in a vain way — more in a quietly grateful, almost tender way. Like appreciating something you didn't earn and know you can't take credit for. My little hands. My narrow shoulders. The way I can fold myself into a corner of a sofa like a cat and take up almost no space at all 🐱

I used to be a little self-conscious about it, actually. Wished for more curves, more presence, more of whatever it was I thought I was supposed to have. Spent years looking at other women and doing that thing where you mentally try on their body like it's a coat in a shop window.

But somewhere along the way I just… stopped. And started looking at myself instead. Really looking. And what I found was kind of lovely, actually 💛

There's something freeing about making peace with the body you actually have rather than negotiating constantly with the one you imagined you should have. Mine is small and it's mine and it carries me through every single day without complaint, which is more than I can say for a lot of things in my life.

I think we forget to just appreciate ourselves sometimes. Not perform appreciation — actually feel it. Quietly. In a mirror on a random Tuesday 🌸