It's all okay.

I'm finally, it seems, at peace with who I am. Okay, everyone has their off days, their fat days and their bad days, but basically, I'm proud to say I'm happy with myself and my life. That probably makes me appear incredibly lucky, but I am aware of that already. 

I've got a supportive family, a lovely group of friends and a wonderful boyfriend who all accept me for who I am. I'm never going to be the size six I was for prom at 16. I'm never going to have huge boobs or a teeny tiny waist, nor am I going to be tall (I'm built in petite.) I'll probably never attend the gym, or be fully confident wearing a bikini. I'll always be slightly worried about meeting new people or trying new things. My future in career prospects does scare the shit out of me. Biting my nails doesn't make me a bad person. Neither does having a messy room. So what if I have too many clothes to fit in the wardrobe if it's what makes me happy?! Maybe I can't dance but that's not a vital life skill. I'll never be good with geography, but there are always people to ask for directions. I can't make decisions easily, but like I always tell my boyfriend, that's what he's there for. (Well, one of many reasons) ;)