When I was twelve years old I started noticing stretch marks on my inner thighs and hips. I was a little perplexed by this new discovery. There had been no information about getting weird red lines on your skin in any of the awkward school health presentations or puberty books that my mom had bought me. I noticed my mom and sister didn’t have them. I started to feel more scared and nervous about them. I eventually learned they were called stretch marks, but there wasn’t much more information provided. My fears heightened when I heard a random boy say that you got stretch marks when you either lost or gained a lot of weight. This captured my preteen mind's attention. I don’t even remember the kid who said this, but I do remember looking in the mirror and being scared. Had I gained a lot of weight? I certainly hadn’t lost any recently. I was in the middle of a chubbier phase, gearing up for a growth spurt. However, the stretch marks kept on growing with my body, and new ones started appearing on my chest as well. I talked with my mom about it, and she didn't know much either. 

With some time, my stretch marks started to fade at the edges, though they were still very prominent. I bought a cream to help them fade faster. However, I was turned off by the image on the bottle. It showed a very pregnant woman. Were stretch marks only supposed to happen to pregnant people? I ended up not using the cream very much. Eventually, as the years passed, most of my stretch marks faded to a shiny color close to my skin tone. I also started to see more representation of different types of bodies in the media. I specifically remember a Dove ad campaign with a beautiful black woman showing off her own stretch marks at her hips. However, what really made me feel at peace with my own stretch marks was discussing them with friends. It was freeing to realize I was not the only girl out there with them, and that they are not a mark of being unhealthy, or gaining weight, but simply a sign of a body’s growth. It happens to straight size, mid-size, and plus-size people. Some of my friends had them on their hips, some on their breasts, others on their thighs. 

There is an old cliche “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” that applies here. To appreciate the beauty is a choice. I can choose to see my stretch marks as ugly, or I can choose to see them as beautiful marks of my body’s growth. Women’s bodies are scrutinized too much in fashion. What I want to create with my blog is a place where everyone is welcome, and no one is scared about everyday realities of their bodies. Fashion is supposed to be a celebration of the human body. Let’s make it a celebration of all human bodies.