A couple days ago I mustered up the courage to walk in to a certain Big Box store and try on one of the first bikinis of the season. That's right, the same masochistic event millions of women engage in every year. We wander the aisles, racks, shelves with great enthusiasm until the second the dressing room door snaps shut. The harsh lighting, the haunting idea that the dressing room attendant and other patrons are secretly judging you, . The days we skipped working out or spent binging that we thought we put behind us are screaming every possible insult that skinny bitch inside of us can comprehend. Every insecurity creeps back(my thighs touch, my ass sags, my belly jiggles) until we realize we are still standing there, all of our regular clothes on and bathing suits in hand until we walk back out claiming none of the garments worked for us.
But not this year. No, this year has already been different. I grabbed a top that is not supposed to work for what I thought was my body type. In a small mind you because I am one of the extremely lucky women who gets to lose fat in her boobs first. The medium bottoms stared me directly in the eye reminding me of the pear shape having my daughter gave me.
I closed the dressing room door and took a deep breath, ready for disappointment. It was like having someone slap you in the face with a rainbow, or vodka gummy bears. My favorite kind of top, the one that is not supposed to work for my body type, was giving my boobs the A cup glory they deserve. I happily turned around and while I knew going in my butt wasn't quite as tight as I wanted it, the medium bottoms were actually the thing that was sagging, not my bum! So I asked the (very sweet) dressing room attendant if she would mind grabbing me a small. There is still a little lower back fat/hip fat I would love to get rid of as those are my "problem areas", but otherwise my ridiculously hard work is paying off and damn does it feel good.
