I can’t recall a single time this year when I looked in the mirror and felt genuinely happy with what I saw in the reflection. I still hate getting out of the shower and zeroing in on my flabby stomach. I hate trying on the same pair of too-tight jeans every week with the same depressing result. I hate retreating to yoga pants and slouchy cardigans because nothing else is comfortable. But mostly, I hate how much time I wasted being upset about a body that’s really had one hell of a rough year and could use a little break.