And it wasn't just Williams' approach to her body image that inspired me. Seeing her physical dedication to the sport — despite a dislike for working out and critics who say her time in the game is limited because of her age — was motivating. "Who said 34 was old for tennis?" she asks. "Who makes the rules? Shouldn't you make your own rules?" We don't just see her loving her body; we see her appreciating it for its power, its strength, its capabilities. She also treats it, digging into Chinese food after a win and admitting to frequently indulging in Chick-fil-A (my own fast-food Achilles' heel).

Of course, one could argue that Williams has the luxury of being able to laugh off her haters and body image insecurities. After all, she is arguably the greatest athlete in the entire world, and she's surrounded by a team of people whose sole jobs are to look after her. But when she talks about her body in this film, there is no trace of smugness, or even her signature confidence (which the media often misconstrues, predictably, as arrogance — but we'll save that problematic racial labeling for another day). Her love for her body is just a fact, plain and simple.

So thank you, Serena. I'm headed to the gym now, to push my body to be better and stronger, to appreciate its strength and what it can do — because that's what I want to do, not because I want it to look a certain way for anyone else. When I look in the mirror, I will say, "I love my body, and I don't really care about what anyone else says about it." And then maybe afterward, I'll treat myself to some Chick-fil-A.