I don't think I ever really hated my body, at least not as much as I thought I was supposed to. I think it's one of the reasons I failed at weight loss for so many decades - I was taught to diet by the self-hatred method, and I never could muster enough self hatred to see me through to the end.
Eventually I'd be unable to sustain the self-hatred, and I'd lose interest in punishing myself and would inevitably go off the diet.
This time, I chose to diet "backwards," in an almost polar opposition to the way I was used to. I decided to make changes I was willing to commit to forever or at least indefinitely even if no weight loss resulted at all, and I started looking at diet/exercise as a way to reward my wonderful self rather than a way to punish the bad me (until I couldn't take the punishment any longer).
I get sick of punishment, but I don't get sick of reward - so I haven't once even thought of giving up, because why on earth would I want to stop pampering myself?
Turns out loving the weight off has been far more successful than hating it off.



