My Body Changed- and So Did My Worth (But Not How You’d Think)

As I am writing this, it’s my birthday week, bestie! I’m turning 32, and my grand plans are to… do absolutely nothing. Think: sleep in with my cat, sip a coffee, maybe a gentle walk if the weather behaves. Basically, just soaking it all in.

But you know how birthdays bring reflection? That’s what this week has me doing — thinking about how much my body has changed over the years and what that’s meant for my sense of worth.

And here’s the truth: my body looks different at 32 than it did at 21. More grey hairs, fine lines, and curves that weren’t there before. I don’t look like teenage Nicole anymore — and honestly, thank goodness. But I also know how tough it can feel to look in the mirror and think, “I looked so much better when I was younger.”

So today, let’s unpack:

  • Why your body is meant to change.

  • How diet culture turns natural changes into a crisis.

  • What to do instead of getting stuck in comparison.

Bodies Change. That’s Biology, Not Failure.

Here’s the obvious (but often resisted) truth: your body today isn’t the same as it was at 21, 25, or even last year. And that’s not a flaw. That’s biology.

Diet culture, though? Oh, it hates that for us. It tells us that the “best” version of ourselves is always behind us — younger, thinner, smoother. It makes every wrinkle, roll, or shift in size feel like failure.

But here’s the reality: my body has changed from…

  • Years of chronic dieting and weight cycling.

  • Bariatric surgery and recovery.

  • Hormonal shifts, chronic illness, and trauma.

  • Healing from binge eating and restriction.

And yet — through every version of my body — my worth never changed.

The only thing that did change? My relationship with my body. And that made all the difference.

My Body at 21, 25, 28, and Now

Let’s rewind:

  • 21-year-old me: Obsessed with thinness. Hours at the gym. Fat-burning pills. Gross protein shakes. Smaller body, but endless self-criticism.

  • 25-year-old me: Got gastric sleeve surgery, believing smaller = happier. Spoiler: it didn’t fix binge eating.

  • 28-year-old me: Regained some weight. Terrified and ashamed. But also starting to wake up to diet culture and trauma.

  • 32-year-old me (today): Softer, fuller, older. But more grounded, self-aware, and free than I’ve ever been.

It wasn’t shrinking that gave me peace. It was healing.

Why We Compare Ourselves to the Past

So why do we compare?

Because we’ve been taught youth = value. Thinness = worth. Smooth skin = lovable, hireable, respected.

But let me ask: Was your younger self really happier?

For me, the answer is no. She was smaller, sure. But she was exhausted, obsessed, and trapped in a cycle of rules, restriction, and shame.

That smaller body didn’t give me freedom. It cost me everything trying to maintain it.

What to Do Instead of Body Comparison

If you’re stuck comparing your current body to your younger self, try this:

🔁 Flip the script → Instead of “I used to look better,” try “I used to be disconnected. Now I’m learning to respect myself.”

💜 Grieve the ideal → Feeling sadness about change doesn’t mean you failed. It means you’re human. Body grief is valid.

🧭 Anchor into now → Ask: What does my body let me do today? What have I survived? What am I growing into? (Hint: neutrality is enough. Respect is enough.)

🌱 Choose compassion over comparison → Your body isn’t meant to stay the same. Every wrinkle, curve, or crease is proof you’re living. That’s something to celebrate.

Bestie, you are allowed to age. You are allowed to change. And you are always worthy. 💜