One of the hardest things about being sick is how insecure it makes you.

In the past year alone, my illness has caused me to gain about 80 pounds. Because I was just starting college when the weight gain became noticeable, many people pegged it on the “Freshman Fifteen”. When I withdrew from college and continued to gain weight, I was asked about my eating and exercise habits. Eventually, people started whispering about how I had stopped caring and  just let myself go. In reality, I was only eating a single meal a day, and 95 percent of the time I was incapable of keeping it down.

As if going from a size 5 to a size 14 wasn’t enough, I started getting Stretch Marks. Not the typical stretch marks, either. Really bad stretch marks. I have bright pink marks going from my shoulders to my elbows, from my armpits to my hips, from upper thighs to calves, and all across my stomach. I look like a zebra. Seriously. Following the stretch marks came the acne. Then came dark circles around my eyes, and bright red cheeks from constant fevers.

Aside from my physical changes, other Insecurities arose. I took a medical leave from work, and without an income I started having to rely on my parents for things that I didn’t have to before. I was constantly exhausted and weak, and the amount I slept made me feel like a bum. I didn’t have anyone to talk to most of the time, so I felt sad and alone.

My insecurities started to eat me alive. I was constantly depressed, constantly crying, and constantly hiding my body. I wasn’t myself anymore. I got lost in other people’s opinions of me, and I stopped thinking for myself. Their opinions became my own opinions. I absolutely hated myself.

It’s been a few months since my insecurities arose. This weekend, I am attending a wedding. It’s an outdoor wedding, with tons of people that I have never met before, and it’s going to be hot out.

I’m going sleeveless.

That’s right. I’m going sleeveless. And I’m going to embrace my stretch marks, because they represent everything I’ve been through this past year. And I’m gonna flaunt my outfit, even if I am a little chubby. Am I nervous? A little. Do I still feel insecure? Sometimes. But nobody else can judge me, because nobody else had to go through what I went through this past year. I’m going to have a good time, and I’m going to be myself, because THAT is the most beautiful thing I can be.