While catching up on the phone with my longtime, long-distance friend, she confided that she had gained some weight and had a difficult time looking at herself in the mirror. Having faced this same challenge throughout my life, watching my weight fluctuate with stress and illness, then normalise when things improve, I deeply understand how painful this experience can be.

Society is quite harsh towards people who don’t resemble catwalk models. Beyond viewing their size as a moral failure and offering unsustainable and ineffective diets, there’s no consideration for what it’s like to live in a body that’s judged wherever you go — often most critically by yourself. And a constant feeling of not being safe because if this ongoing judgment.

If you’ve never had this experience, imagine for a moment that you’re out for a day and this is what happens: You’re hungry, so you get something to eat. People stare at you in disgust because a fat person surely doesn’t need food. You want to go sit somewhere, but the chairs have armrests, so you’re not sure your hips will fit. You see something lovely in a shop window, but you’re not sure the shop carries your size, and you don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with the salesperson’s glares, so you don’t go in. While you might think this surely only happens to extremely heavy people, I can assure you this was my reality even when I was an EU size 44 (UK16 / US14) — which at the time was just one size above the average size of Dutch women.

When you live in a world where you’re constantly judged for the way you look, it’s nearly impossible not to internalise the criticism. I was unfortunate enough to grow up surrounded by women who weren’t afraid to tell me what they thought was wrong with my body. So when I recently had to attend a family event for the first time in over a year, I found myself mentally repeating a list of every visible flaw for weeks. When I took a moment to reflect on why I was doing this and how it affected me, I realised these words weren’t mine. Though I initially thought they were helping me prepare for the inevitable, they only made me feel terrible. So I stopped.

Unlearning to be mean to yourself — because in all honesty, that’s what internalised criticism is — is not a simple thing to do. While I can now redirect these negative thoughts, it took years to develop this skill. If you’re still at the beginning of your journey of being kind to yourself, let me share what worked for me.

Right after we moved to Scotland, I had to buy some new clothes — our first six weeks here were unexpectedly warm and I wasn’t prepared. I don’t shop often, and I typically choose clothes that allow my weight to fluctuate during stress or flare-ups, so it came a bit as a surprise when none of the clothes in my usual size fit. Sure, new brands and switching from EU to UK sizing explained part of that, but I also gained several dress sizes without fully noticing. So when I found the time and space to properly look at myself in the mirror, I didn’t recognise the person looking back at me.

I still needed clothes, so I exchanged them for sizes that fit. But then the real work began. My first instinct was to avoid looking at my reflection altogether. I was the heaviest I’d ever been, and my body looked like my worst nightmare come true. Why would I want to look at that? But then I wondered: why would I choose to be my own worst bully? Being cruel to myself wouldn’t change anything — but it was damaging my mental health. I had to change the way I spoke to myself.

The best way to do that — for me, it might be different for you — was to shift my focus away from my full body. I started finding small details and qualities that I did like: the colour of my eyes, the shape of my nose, my long legs, the fact that my body kept me alive through everything I’ve been through, and how soft my skin felt. Every time I had a negative thought, I would counter it with something positive. Until, eventually, I’d see my reflection and my first thoughts were neutral. The thing is, while we live in a world that always has an opinion about everything, we don’t need to have an opinion about our bodies. We need to care for it, but there is no rule that says you have to either love or hate it. Your body just is.

Since I started being more kind to my body, I’ve slowly started to appreciate what I see in the mirror. There’s still a distance to go before I look like the way I remember, but not hating myself for something I can’t change overnight, makes my life a lot more pleasant.

Since becoming kinder to my body, I’ve gradually grown to appreciate my reflection in the mirror. Though I still don’t look the way I remember — and I never will, being nearly a decade older now — not hating myself for something I can’t change overnight has made my life much more pleasant. So consider this your permission to chuck those negative thoughts in the bin and be kind to yourself.