Quotes About Self-acceptance

You're beautiful," he said. "I'm as big as cow." "A beautiful cow." She chuckled. "I'm fat." "You're not fat." (Stella & Beau)

Sometimes a person needs to hear you forgive them so they can start to forgive themselves.

I cannot perch among those who think that I am broken.

How dare the world be beautiful when I was so horrifying?

Luckily, voting machines register only 'yes' or 'no,' not 'yes, but I hate myself'.

The fact that I am Latino is not a secret. There's not much I can do about that. It is what it is. I think people know that my last name ends in a vowel. What can I tell you?

I'm not frightened of appearing vulnerable.

To admit that you're shooting for the stars - that you're allowed to do that, that it's not shameful - that to me is very vulnerable.

I don't care about me being vulnerable or embarrassing situations.

In the 20 long, hungry years between my late teens and late 30s I bought in to virtually every new diet and/or exercise regime that hoved into view, particularly at this most vulnerable time for those of us prone to poor body image - a new year.

I've certainly experienced racism, but it has not made a great impact on me. I have always thought, as I got older and older, I was more in charge of who I was. What someone thought about me or said about me made less of an impression on me at very vulnerable times.

I've never pretended that I'm not female and vulnerable. To me, it's just being honest.

A huge part of my career and how I want to participate in the world is being unapologetically myself and being honest and vulnerable.

I grew up, and I was bullied and very insecure. I hope, if nothing else, if I share enough of my struggle and share what I went through and allow myself to be vulnerable, I'll let people see who I am.

I'm Spanish: big butt, little waist. I can't be a size 2.

Designers and advertisers like the idea of my breasts, waist line, long legs, and long neck - but have literally made gagging noises at my facial features.

At the age of 55, you will get a saggy roll just above your waist, even if you are painfully thin.

There were days I could barely struggle into a size 46 or 48, months of larges and XXLs, and endless rounds of leggings with the elastic at the waist stretched to its limit and beyond - topped with the fashion equivalent of a tea cozy. And always black, because I was in mourning for my slimmer self.

My husband recently made me try on a bikini. A bikini is not so much a garment as a cloth-based reminder that your parts have been migrating all these years. My waist, I realized that day in the dressing room, has completely disappeared beneath my rib cage, which now rests directly on my hips. I'm exhibiting continental drift in reverse.

I haven't got a waist. I've just got a sort of place, a bit like an unmarked level crossing.

I don't have a waist: I'm a breadbox on top of legs.

I think that each woman, whatever age, needs to recognize something good in her body. Someone has beautiful legs, someone has beautiful hair, someone else has beautiful decolletage or a beautiful waist or beautiful hands. Everyone has something great.

I'm a girl who's curvy, and I'm Latvian, but I don't have hips, and I have a tiny waist.

Being a female athlete, sometimes your clothes don't fit right if you have a small waist and broad shoulders, or strong hips. And it's OK to embrace that.