We, (Devastatingly Handsome Mark and I) decided to go to the beach this past weekend. Before leaving I began the frenzied process of pulling out all the swim suit pieces I own in an attempt to find a swim suit that is both functional and flattering (It would be easier to buy a winning powerball ticket.). It was at this point that Mark mysteriously disappeared.
After 16 years of marriage, that man knows me very well. Rather than listen to an endless littany of me berating and beating myself up over how this suit makes me look or that suit makes me look or me asking him if “this makes me look fat” he did what any rational man would do. He hid.
After changing about 26 times, I decided on a top that still fit and I thought would do a decent job of holding my parts in. As I tried on a pair of shorty boy shorts with the top Mark happened to walk by and an interesting look came over his face. He gave me a little smirky smile and said “That is definitely the right answer!” I didn’t prompt him, I didn’t ask him. It was a genuine reaction and made my heart flutter a bit. It made me feel sexy and confident.
While I hadn’t worn a two peice in a long time, I wore it confidently that day and there was a certain empowerment that it gave me. On the beach I saw women of all shapes and sizes rocking their two piece suits. As I confidently stepped out into the ocean I reveled in how freeing it was to let go of my insecurities. I found peace in not judging myself.
As I stood there in my newfound glory a huge wave knocked me over and dragged me through the sand. I felt all the sand going into my suit and as I struggled to get up I prayed that my bottoms were up and my top was down. I looked around to see if anynoe saw this 41 year old lady go butt over teakettle into the surf. Nope. No one staring. So acting as if nothing was amiss I started walking toward my beach chair, sand trailing out of my bottoms. I pulled a sea shell out of my cleavage. I was a rock star!
See you in class and the studio