Kelly Burch

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I’ve been waiting years to celebrate my undying love of all things Christmas with my child, but now that my toddler is old enough to understand the joys of the holiday season I’ve realized that there are some things about the holidays that only a parent can understand.

“Then why are you so worried about the scale?” Why was I? I had finally let go of the scale as an indicator of my own health, but my inability to do the same when it came to my daughter was bringing up the same old feelings of inadequacy and frustration.

Growing up, travel was a luxury that was simply out of reach, so I know firsthand that travel is a privilege that not everyone can enjoy.

“How many time have I asked you….” I say in frustration, and then it hits me. The real question I should be asking is how many times I’ve uttered that phrase.

I clearly remember the first time that I was forced to accept that something was wrong.

My toddler was twirling in her tutu bathing suit while I shimmied into my plus-sized polka dot bikini.

Someone yelled out a racist comment, and Trump said, “Hey, I can’t say it, but he can.”

I’m one of those bigger girls that confuses the medical community by being entirely healthy. My doctor body shamed me and lied to me about tests she ran.

Can you name an elite female athlete? If you asked me to name someone other than Venus or Serena Williams I’d have a tough time.