I am a large person.

I am full of ideas. I am brimming with passion. I have big dreams and great ambition. I have a wealth of opinions.

I have big lips—they kiss fiercely, speak loudly, and bring life.

I have a large heart; there is great space for love and there is much room for bruising. I feel intensely and I hurt deeply and I give without the expectation of return.

I have a big laugh, and I have great fears. I am brave and I am vulnerable.

I have a large stomach—I am hungry all the time—hungry for justice and for wholeness, hungry for change and for transformation. Hungry for love and acceptance and for freedom.

I have large feet and they will carry me faithfully—down paths that few others will dare to go, to reach hearts that few others will dare to touch.

 I have big hands. They will tear down what is broken and they will create things that are beautiful. They will give gifts and wipe tears and plant seeds.

I have many numbers. Numbers on a ruler, on a scale, on a calendar, and in my bank account—and I am bigger than them all. I am greater than the need to be measured, to be defined, or to be counted. I am too big to fit your expectations, too large to be confined by your judgments and far too large to fit into your mold.

I am a large person. And I am not afraid of my largeness.