Why a Bikini?
The other day I was at Target buying cat food, not for me- for my cat, Sweet Pea, when I overheard these young, thin, girls who were following behind me:
Girl #1: OMG, Becky! Look at her butt! It is so big! (These are Sir Mix-a-lot's words, not hers, but it represents the gist of her pronouncement.)
Girl #2: I know! Look at it! It jiggles as she walks!
Girl #1: I think I'm going to be sick...
Me: (Ducks into the cat food aisle and contemplates the cat food selections while I fight off tears.)
Yes, I am fat. I have been fat for the bulk of my adult life. For the longest time it bothered me. I was ashamed to show my body. I hid it from family, friends, doctors. I felt I had failed at something. When I went out with friends, I'd order a modest meal and then watch as friends a third my size, or smaller, would eat two to three times what I would and then eat a full dessert on top of it. The thing is, they'd eat like that very often and they'd still remain skinny- without regular exercise.
I was always confused, even if I was more physically active, I'd still be fatter. It took me years to realize that my worth is not tied into my body size.
My worth is tied to who I am.
Who am I? I am compassionate, polite to a fault, nerdy, geeky, gorgeous, loving, brilliant, forgetful, empathetic, a bookworm, a knitter, socially awkward, a make up lover, quirky, loyal, trustworthy, honest, and credulous. I am me, and I Love myself. At forty years of age, I am still learning about myself daily.
So, back to my story:
After fifteen minutes in the cat food aisle, I had come to a realization: I am fat. I live in a fat body. I have a fat body that gives my boyfriend a hard-on. My body is beautiful and I love it. I love dressing it; I love decorating it with funky hair colors; I love rubbing luxurious lotions on it; I love my body.
I've been told since I was a child that I was too fat for a bikini. Culture and media has reinforced those feelings. I was finished being told what I could and could not wear. It is my body- it is time I claimed it. I was ready to celebrate my curves, love handles, cellulite, and fat. I went over to the bathing suit department and tried on a dozen bikini tops, bought one, and wore it at a Fourth July party.
I felt free. I felt stronger. I felt gorgeous and sexy and desirable. I felt better in myself than I ever have. I have claimed my body as my own. My expansive beautiful, soft, white skin is mine to live in, and I will live in it to its fullest.
Girl #1: OMG, Becky! Look at her butt! It is so big! (These are Sir Mix-a-lot's words, not hers, but it represents the gist of her pronouncement.)
Girl #2: I know! Look at it! It jiggles as she walks!
Girl #1: I think I'm going to be sick...
Me: (Ducks into the cat food aisle and contemplates the cat food selections while I fight off tears.)
Yes, I am fat. I have been fat for the bulk of my adult life. For the longest time it bothered me. I was ashamed to show my body. I hid it from family, friends, doctors. I felt I had failed at something. When I went out with friends, I'd order a modest meal and then watch as friends a third my size, or smaller, would eat two to three times what I would and then eat a full dessert on top of it. The thing is, they'd eat like that very often and they'd still remain skinny- without regular exercise.
I was always confused, even if I was more physically active, I'd still be fatter. It took me years to realize that my worth is not tied into my body size.
My worth is tied to who I am.
Who am I? I am compassionate, polite to a fault, nerdy, geeky, gorgeous, loving, brilliant, forgetful, empathetic, a bookworm, a knitter, socially awkward, a make up lover, quirky, loyal, trustworthy, honest, and credulous. I am me, and I Love myself. At forty years of age, I am still learning about myself daily.
So, back to my story:
After fifteen minutes in the cat food aisle, I had come to a realization: I am fat. I live in a fat body. I have a fat body that gives my boyfriend a hard-on. My body is beautiful and I love it. I love dressing it; I love decorating it with funky hair colors; I love rubbing luxurious lotions on it; I love my body.
I've been told since I was a child that I was too fat for a bikini. Culture and media has reinforced those feelings. I was finished being told what I could and could not wear. It is my body- it is time I claimed it. I was ready to celebrate my curves, love handles, cellulite, and fat. I went over to the bathing suit department and tried on a dozen bikini tops, bought one, and wore it at a Fourth July party.
I felt free. I felt stronger. I felt gorgeous and sexy and desirable. I felt better in myself than I ever have. I have claimed my body as my own. My expansive beautiful, soft, white skin is mine to live in, and I will live in it to its fullest.
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