I used to be a solid 145lbs. It might drop a few on off days when I was sick but for the most part my weight was fairly stable. When I got pregnant, I couldn’t gain weight. For the first five months, I only gained 5lbs and unless people were aware, they couldn’t tell I was with child. Trips out to see friends in grand rapids often greeted me with inquiries about my health, lectures on how I needed to eat more, jealousies of how little I had gained and how cute my little barely visible bump was. Monthly checkups with the doctor turned into encouragement to eat ice cream daily and the expectation to have growth ultrasounds done to make sure the baby was healthy and developing on track. Hell, strangers even loved to comment on how badly they wished they were my size when I was near full term but only looked five or six months along—people need to learn to keep their mouths shut.

By the time I went in to be induced, I weighed only 158lbs, a 13-15lb weight gain. By the end of those first six weeks after Evelynn was born, I had dropped to 122lbs, lower than I had been in years. Hell, I hadn’t weighed below 130 since before sophomore year of high school.

I never wanted to be sick. I never purposefully skipped meals. I never shoved my finger down my throat.

There is nothing I would like more than to be able to eat half a pizza without running for the bathroom ill to my stomach through the rest of the night.

To be honest, I don’t like being told how good I look. I know I could have stood to lose a few pounds before pregnancy, but I hate how I lost them. Unless it is coming from someone who knows what I have gone through this past year, I don’t want to hear thoughts on my weight or figure.

I miss my curves. I miss my ass—my god do I miss my ass. I had it good. It was round and firm, plump and cushiony. I could sit on a hard surface without it hurting or needing to reposition after only a few minutes.

Sometime around the beginning of this year, I came across celiac disease and after investigating it further, found out the likelihood that this is the reason for Evelynn’s low birth weight, my inability to gain weight when pregnant, my constant sickness and exhaustion, my daily migraines. Going gluten free has been my lifesaver. It’s been hard as hell but never before have I been able to survive the week without naps and only an average of nine hours of sleep at night. I may have lost all my muscle when I was pregnant and will have to work extremely hard to get back to where I was, but I can eat multiple meals a day without getting sick. My diet may be restricted but my god do I feel amazing.

Skinny is a derogatory term and people don’t realize this. Words are powerful. They label and kill esteem. They boost egos and build confidence. When people call me skinny or comment on how much weight I have lost in the past six months—or how little I had gained when pregnant—I immediately feel unhealthy. I promise you, you don’t want to know my secret. I know how it looks. The girl who was continuously sick, can’t keep food down or rarely had an appetite. However, for the past two months and despite the muscle loss, I also know that I’m the healthiest I have been in years.