OMG…did I just say that…out loud…and commit it to writing?!? Does this mean I have accepted my middle aged-ness?!
Here it is ladies and gentlemen….(by gentlemen…that means my husband who better savor every word I write 😉) I am in fact middle aged. I prefer not to wear my glasses because they just seem to make everyone, including me, look a little bit older. When I wear my glasses, I can see the crows feet, laugh lines and elevens so much clearer….even (especially!?) on my own face. Two days ago, I plucked out my sixth gray hair….(And I’d like to challenge the rumor that for every gray you pluck out two more grow in….I plucked three last May, only two in June, and so far only one in July….the math just doesn’t add up.) And then there are the thighs. And butt. And gut.
I was always built athletically. Not skinny, not fat, but sturdy and curvy. In my teens and 20’s I walked, ran, hiked, and lifted weights. I was fit and strong, and even after a few babies, I still had a flat toned tummy. Looking back at pictures of myself, I remember being so self conscious. I even thought I was ‘fat’ at certain points, though I never was. In fact, looking back, I was down right skinny! But I always went with the one piece unless it was a private pool or out in Mother Nature.
Through my thirties, a few more babies, and I discovered Shaun T and insanity. I did insanity no less than 20 times start to finish in my 30’s….along with P90X series, Insanity Max 30, T-25, PIYO…if beach body produced it, I did it. Plus continued to run daily. I was a strong, lean, mama machine. I had a wonder metabolism and could eat whatever I pleased, though still tended toward healthy foods. I was more comfortable in my own skin, but still…if I was wearing a bikini…I was also wearing a cover up.
Then, in my 40’s I had the first of four bouts of pneumonia, moved to a colder climate where daily running outside just wasn’t feasible, started having aches and pains in my knees and foot (old injuries coming back to haunt me), and started menopause….and my wonder metabolism turned into ‘I wonder what happened to my metabolism?’ Add to that COVID19 and the quarantine 15….and here I was….lamenting the best years of my thighs. The years I should have been not just wearing the bikini, but proudly strutting my stuff. I never did.
I was talking with a few of my sisters-in-law over 4th of July weekend, and we were talking about how we should have just worn the damn bikini back in the day. We can all relate when we look back at pictures of ourselves in our 20’s and 30’s, remember feeling fat and inadequate when in reality we were in the best shapes of our lives, and kept ourselves covered. We were so focused on what we felt we should look like in order to be bikini worthy…and we overlooked the fact that there is NO.SUCH.THING. And we hear our younger sisters in law, and our nieces and daughters….some who are all about body positivity and wearing what they want to wear (GO B!!!), and others who are just like we were back in the day, waiting for the perfect body.
I have spent more time than necessary pondering and considering and reflecting about this phenomena most women go through that includes sitting on the spectrum from self conscious to self loathing based on our body shapes. This mis-perception about bikini bodies is only exacerbated by the kardashians (and others) with their surgical enhancements, personal trainers and dietitians…all while they downplay their behind the scenes personal care routines that afford them the ‘bikini body’ so many women aspire to… The fact is real women don’t have meal planners counting out their macros, are not spending time in the gym daily, and visiting the aesthetician for laser hair removal, chemical peels, tanning, etc. Real women are working either in the home or workforce, raising children, and living their best authentic lives. Somewhere along the lines, we forgot to acknowledge that authentic bodies are more attractive than ‘bikini’ bodies.
So here I am with 50 just around the corner…and guess what…These are the best years of my thighs and I am wearing the damn bikini. My thighs jiggle when I walk, and I have a kangaroo pouch that will never go away no matter how much cardio and core I do, my butt has more dimples than a golf ball ( but as long as I don’t wear my glasses when I look at my butt…it only has a few), and the girls…well, I’m definitely going with the super support model bikini top these days. But, I lift heavy 2-3 times a week, do an hour of spin 2-3 times a week, run a few times a week….and am healthy and strong. I can hike, and swim, and bike, and work in the yard and do the things with my kids, grandkids, and family.
I recently donated three lawn and leaf bags full of size 0 and 2 clothing and have gladly acknowledged that I will not ever be that person again. It is hard to see pictures of myself from 10, 20, even 30 years ago with out lamenting but I’m not lamenting my 110 pound self: I’m lamenting that I didn’t value my body and recognize it as the masterpiece it was.
Every body, from a size 0 to a 3x….is a bikini body. This summer, and each and everyone thereafter, I’m wearing the bikini.
