She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny…

I walked in the store, my mind made up. I want a bikini. I’m done hiding, being ashamed. I love my body, it’s the others that don’t. Some of them anyways. You know the kind. The kind that thinks that skin is always smooth, that hair doesn’t grow back, that nipples should be tiny, that boobs shouldn’t sag, that bellies should wear a six pack at all times. Fuck ’em.

I’ve been hiding, camouflaging, avoiding. I walked in the store today thinking about all this. The fact is, I never really looked at my body. Then I lost all that weight. And now I can’t stop looking touching feeling. It’s not perfect, and as a matter of fact, some parts of me I liked better with the weight on. Nevertheless, I chose today to live a little.

I walked in the store and looked at all the bathing suits, and I couldn’t believe what I’ve been missing. All these years hidding in a black one piece. The colors, the fabrics, the shapes. I tried at least 15 on. Bikinis. And 2 one peice, for good measure. Well not for good measure. My little voice was not so little today. It was screaming “You can’t do that! Can’t wear a bikini, you’re too old, too fat, too soft, too too.” I tried a one piece and walked around with it in my hands for quite a while. Then I found the perfect one. The perfect 2 piece. Dumped the one piece like it was on fire. Told the voice to shut the fuck up.

So what. I have stretch marks. My ass is sagging a bit. And? I look great in that bikini. It’s yellow and orange and green and white and, and, and…. I look like a surfer girl 🙂

All this… for what? Cartagena Colombia. In three weeks.