Oh, it means that I need to get toned all over, work on getting Michelle Obama arms and lose 25 pounds before I dare wear a swimsuit, right? Oh I forgot. We still care about that in this country. What was I thinking?
When I was 125 pounds—before kids and before age 30—I could and would wear swimsuits made of dental floss, unicorn whispers and broken dreams. Didn’t we all? Later on I realized that no one had any business seeing my body like that on a beach, a vacation or a local pool.
Fast forward about 16 years and I am a bit thicker, a bit more lovely and a bit wiser. Gone are the string bikinis. Front and center are the tankinis, cover-ups and slimming suits. Why? Not because I am ashamed of my body. It is because I have learned a bit of modesty. Just because the sun is shining and I am outdoors does not mean I need to be naked. Not literally naked, but almost naked. Don’t visualize it. It will haunt your dreams.
But dammit—I AM swimsuit ready. I am ready to swim, lay on the beach and catch some rays on the boat. It’s hot after all. Just because I haven’t lost the required weight for a swimsuit doesn’t meant I can’t enjoy that.