This is a fantastic problem to have.
My bras are too big in the band while staying the same in the boob and the bottom of last year’s tankini falls off like I’m auditioning to be the new Coppertone baby. Most of my dresses look like I’ve raided mom’s closet for a tea party with beanie babies and don’t even get me started on my pants. None of my clothes fit.
I repeat: this is a fantastic problem to have…but it’s still a problem. See, as it turns out, clothing is not free and I am not rich. I also am going to the beach in two weeks. My first priority has to be a new swimsuit, but what do I buy? I’ve been fairly married to the tankini since its introduction into society about a decade ago, but I’m also a busty lass which means that halters tend to be the most flattering. I also can’t spend much on the swimsuit because it will likely only get one or two uses before the summer’s out and next summer will be a completely different ballgame.
Finally, and most poignantly, there’s the simple truth that I have always had a distorted image of my midsection.
Maybe it was the magazines with the tiny models. Maybe it is the echo of my grandmother’s voice whispering about a random girl on the beach who was wearing a bikini when she “ought’nt”. Maybe it is remembering my girlfriends from high school struggling to pinch an inch of flesh to complain about their own “fatness”. I don’t know.
Likely, it stems from the fact that I have always been my worst critic when it comes to my body.
I have currently lost 29.8 pounds. My waist is only three inches away from the smallest I’ve ever been and I still haven’t gotten up the guts to publicly wear the pair of black shorts I bought in June. I usually feel great in clothes. I wear my clothes like a champ. It’s where the clothes aren’t that’s the problem. Thus, the terror of shorts: I fear them. I fear them like they have giant zipper teeth, waiting to rip my flesh.
I swear I don’t need a therapist.
The most honest thing that I can say is that, quite simply, I have absolutely no idea what my midsection looks like. I mean, I know what it looks like, but I don’t understand where it scales with the rest of the tummy world. I could look at just about any other person and say whether their best look would be a string bikini or a strategically placed tent, but me, I’m a complete mystery. Am I still a tankini girl or can I venture into some more revealing territory?
Quite frankly, it was while writing this particular blog entry that I realized I probably have some sort of mental disorder regarding my body image. An anorexic girl looks in the mirror and sees fat. I’m not there, but I certainly don’t see me accurately. If I were a therapist, I’d probably tell myself to buy a modest suit that displays some of my midsection, go into public, and suffer through the fear. Maybe then I would learn that nobody else cares if I have a little extra on my tummy. Maybe that would help me with any tendencies of narcissism.
Then again, if I dealt with my narcissism, I probably wouldn’t write a blog about my weight loss for the world to read.
I’ve already figured out the solution to my problem and it’s not spending money on therapy or purchasing my very own tent. I am passing the buck. Since I don’t know what my tummy looks like, I’m taking a friend with me who does…and, since she’s personal shopper, I know I can trust her to tell me the truth and help me find something that works. But, before I do, here are some truths that I know in my head, even if I can’t convince my heart:
1. No one owns the exclusive rights to wear a bikini. If you want to wear one, by God, wear one. Whatever your body type, I respect the fact that you can do something with ease that I fear like nobody’s business.
2. Whatever style you’re wearing, wear it in your size. We’ll only notice the size of what you’re wearing if you’re wearing it a size too small.
3. Confidence is the sexiest thing you can ever wear. It never goes out of style and pairs well with a cocktail and a great pair of shoes.
Until next time, I’m Stacie, the Actress Geek (in a two-piece) (maybe)
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