My Bikini Rebellion

Tomorrow I leave for Hawaii for a belated honeymoon/birthday/why-not vacation. If I lived my life according to a beauty magazine, I would have spent the last three months working out, sticking to a diet, and focusing on achieving a body worthy of a bikini. None of this happened. Except the fourth step that the magazines seldom talk about with any authenticity: feel ugly and guilty, and wonder why you ever bought a stomach-baring swimsuit in the first place. Body image is a sensitive topic for me, as I'm guessing it is for most other people, particularly those who are not fit and active.

I will admit, while I've been able to find a lot more balance in my life during my wonderemployment period, the one thing truly lacking has been exercise. It's a constant struggle. I have never liked physical activity much. As a kid I was the one who was happy when it was raining and we could stay in the library for recess. There have been bursts here and there when I have really gotten into yoga and dance, but sticking with a routine has proven challenging throughout my life. Hiking is wonderful because I love being outside, but we probably only make it out once a month because of other obligations on the weekends. Excuses, excuses, really. I am aware it's something I need to work on.

But back to the bikini. In all the excitement of my trip, I find that my biggest source of anxiety is this piece of fabric, or rather TWO pieces of fabric. I didn't buy a bikini because I ever felt like I had a great body, or because I had hopes of obtaining one. Definitely not. I, like a great number of women, have spent much of my life being dissatisfied with my body, poking at my belly and wishing the fat would miraculously go away and move in with the upstairs neighbors instead. It is actually because of this voice of self-loathing that I wear bikinis. It's my way of saying f*** you, world, for making me hate something that is so good to me, that helps me live a wonderful, full life. It's my subtle protest against the idea that only "perfect" bodies deserve to be seen. I think bikinis are cute, and gosh darn it, I will wear one whether my abs are flat or not. After all, why wait for the body you could have later, when you have a perfectly good one to enjoy today? If you have a body, you can wear a bikini, period.

I had this swimsuit epiphany many years ago when I went to Europe. At the beaches there, women and men of all ages and shapes wore the smallest of swimsuits without any apparent worry about what other people thought. It was a beautiful sight, and made me realize I was wasting time being ashamed of my body. It actually kind of made me mad that I wasn't taught that kind of contentment from day one. So from then on, I vowed to just be me and wear whatever I'd choose to wear if no one was around to see. I've been doing this for many years, and I forget sometimes that not everyone is on board with this. When I've mentioned to people I'm shopping for a swimsuit or that I bought a two-piece, the topic of dieting inevitably comes up, whether they're referring to me or themselves. It makes me sad, though I get it. Thin is in, blah blah blah. Don't even get me started on being tan and hairless.

In the past few years since I began my bikini rebellion, I've gained a number of pounds, making it harder for me to embrace what I know to be true, which is that every body is beautiful, including my own. But I will persevere and live out my principles, one beach at a time. I'll just have to suck it up (but NOT suck it in), and have a damn good time in my bikini in Hawaii. Don't feel too bad for me ;)