Looking back it makes sense, when you do something unexpected people sit up and take notice, but at the time it was a shock. For everyone, it would seem. I wasn’t trying to surprise anyone, I was simply sharing how I felt.

Welcome, thanks for being here. It’s been a wild ride, I’d love to tell you how it all started.

Let’s rewind to one morning in 2010. I had three kids under five, I was sleep deprived, exhausted and my mood was on a downward slide. As I sat on the lounge room floor surrounded by toys, toast crusts and unfolded washing I wasn’t thinking about how much I’d achieved by feeding the kids and actually getting some washing done. I was thinking about how much I hated my body.

A body that had grown and stretched and deflated, on repeat, three times. A body that had grown and birthed three humans but now felt like it belonged to someone else. Under the strain of a mountainous mental load, my mind was reproducing pictures of how I thought I should look. The ‘old’ Taryn. The ‘before’ Taryn. I didn’t recognise myself in the mirror and worse, I hated the person I was seeing.

In that moment, I booked an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon to 'fix' what I thought was broken and bring back the ‘old’ Taryn. I went to the appointment looking for a way to be happy again. The surgeon explained the procedures they would use to ‘put my body back together’. I did the paperwork and booked the surgery. This was going to be the answer to my problems.

I drove home, gathered my forms and brochures off the passenger seat, walked down the driveway and through the back door rattling my keys as I put my bag down. My sweet baby girl ran towards me and gave me the biggest, most joyous hug that only a toddler can give. And that was when it hit me, “How could I teach my daughter to embrace her body if I was about to change mine?”

Realising that the answer I’d found was only going to create more problems, I called the doctor’s rooms and cancelled the scheduled surgery. It felt right to cancel but it didn’t solve my problem then and there. Sorry if you were looking for a miracle, folks. What it did do, was to plant a single question in my brain, whirling around on repeat play.

What does it feel like to have the perfect body?

I had often thought that bodybuilders have the perfect body so for me it was an obvious choice. I could re-build my own perfect body through bodybuilding. I’d found a sport to deliver my dreams.

Reality check: if you know anything about bodybuilding it is a punishing sport. Relentless workouts and restricted calories. I dropped weight, found some chiselled abs, layered on the tan and went bikini shopping. The problem was that I couldn’t sustain it. I was still miserable and leading up to a competition had almost no time for the kids. Here I was with the so-called “perfect” body but I wasn’t any happier.

After some soul searching I started to realise that my body was never the answer. It could only ever be part of the bigger picture. In a moment of absolute clarity, it hit me that my body was not an ornament, it was the vehicle to my dreams. Why and how I want to use it is way more important than how it looks. I no longer wanted to move my body to punish myself, I wanted to move it for the pleasure of being alive.

I wanted to climb mountains and appreciate the view, not be obsessed with the calories I lost along the way. I wanted to nourish my body with foods that would give me energy to get to the top. I wanted to relish the accomplishment, and be proud of myself and what my amazing body had done.

No, I didn’t climb a mountain, but I felt like I had. I felt like I had won the golden ticket. Everything, my whole perspective, had changed. The line in the sand was drawn, and in my heart and in my mind I had a clear before-and-after.

I was a photographer at the time, so I spent some time reflecting on all of the before-and-after photos I had seen over the years. Before always showing a larger body, looking sullen, sometimes ashamed (usually holding a newspaper to prove the date) and after capturing a miraculously happy, much smaller body.

I knew this was BS and called it out. I decided to swap my photos around. My before photo was taken at a bodybuilding competition and my after photo was a larger, less chiselled, more relaxed and happy me. I posted it on social media and went to bed, expecting a few friends and maybe some others might like it.

Waking up the next morning to see that it had gone viral was a complete shock to me, but turns out I shocked a lot of other people in the process. How could a woman love her bigger body? How dare she be comfortable in her own unique shaped skin?

It made headline news in most countries around the world, and all of a sudden I was in the middle of a media frenzy. You might think that was what spurred me on to start a global movement, but fame, even if fleeting, is not a sustainable reason to do anything. What really made me take action was the 7,000 emails and messages from around the world. Heartbreaking stories from people who hated their bodies.

My Dad always told me, “If you know something that can help others, you need to stand up, speak up and help.”

What else was I going to do?

Stand up. Speak up. And help.

I changed my way of thinking for my daughter. I was just one tired, overwrought mum who decided to flip it, unlearn it, change how I was thinking. Just one shift and my world opened up to the joyful and exciting place it now is.

Ten years, two films, four books, a divorce, a marriage, and a blended family later and here we are. My message has reached over 200 million people over the last decade and in some ways it feels like I’m only just getting started.

Make space for what lights you up, you’ll never regret it.