“Boobs you can buy, brains you cannot.” – my mom. I am ok with the stretch marks that mark my tush, because they are a sign I went from stick thin girl to womanly curves. I am ok with the weight of 145lbs at 5’7, because that is where my body has decided to plateau 14 months after my second child (pre-pregnancy weight was 130lbs). I am ok with the scar on my knee, the one above my eye and another two on each foot because those are signs that I have healed and am well. I am ok with the lack of make up I wear, because to me, a mask is just that. Covers the not so flattering until one day it’s exposed. I don’t like masks. This is me for all to see. I am ok with some cellulite on my legs. I am real. I am a woman. I am untouched by any needles, lasers or whatever else is out there to get rid of them. I workout. That’s it. I am ok with my friend, the double chin, that shows up in pictures. It’s there, saying “hey girl hey”. I am ok with my pooch belly. My kangaroo sack which held two beautiful, healthy boys and brought them into this world. I am ok with the little stubborn spider veins. Reminds me to keep moving, walking, getting my blood flowing. I am ok with my not so symmetrical facial features. One eye bigger than the other, one brow thicker than the other, one nostril wider that the other…no two are the same. I’m ok with the wrinkles that are beginning to show around my eyes. Those are because I smile more than I cry. This is my shell. My soul lives inside. If you can’t see past the shell, then you are undeserving of the treasure you may find.