So this weekend I went to a public pool. Which, after reading that first paragraph, probably seems like kind of an anticlimactic way to start a story. But trust me, it was an achievement, because this is the first time in almost a decade I have been out in public in a bathing suit. Literally — almost a decade. I honestly couldn't remember how long it had been, so I sat down and did the math and it blew my mind: The last time anyone besides an immediate family member had seen me in a bathing suit was at a pool party at my roller derby team captain's house in 2007 (I remember because it was the summer we skated at Warped Tour). And again, after reading that first paragraph, that probably seems inconceivable, so let me explain.
For the vast majority of my life, I've been skinny. Not "slim" or "fit," but skinny. And not just skinny, but known for being skinny. Like, if someone in high school or college was describing me to a friend who'd just met me the weekend before, they'd invariably say, "You remember Becky — the tall, skinny one?" And I never even had to work for it. I was just naturally skinny. And I never fully appreciated it.
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I'm the gangly, toothpick-legged one with the longer hair.
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Now I'm on meds and officially a full year into my forties and yes, I could probably (definitely) eat better and exercise more, and I'm not so skinny. It's not even that I've gained weight, it's that all the weight I've gained seems to be centered right in the middle. I'm not so much fat as weird-shaped. Disproportionate. I have like, a converse hourglass figure — not-so-big boobs, a big belly, no hips to speak of. Which makes finding clothes that fit properly difficult: plus-size clothing assumes all parts of your body are equally plus-size, so a dress or clingy top that fits my midsection will usually be too roomy in the bust. "Skinny" jeans that fit my waist turn wide-leg at my thighs. And swimsuits are their very own epic misadventure. After a lifetime of effortless skinniness, of the biggest challenge I ever faced while shopping for clothes being "Cash or credit?", I now found this morbidly embarrassing. I mean, I used to wear bikinis, for crying out loud — how could I let people see me like this?? I decided I could not let people see me like this. I didn’t even own a bathing suit for years.
Then it occurred to me recently, probably while I was sweating my ass off on a tropically humid subway platform and frantically fanning myself with a fold-up map of Brooklyn I had dug out of my purse in desperation, that the only person this self-imposed exile was affecting in any way was me. Seriously? Outspoken feminist and contrarian who loves being in a pool almost more than life itself is going to spend another sweltering summer in the city avoiding FREE PUBLIC POOLS because she no longer looks hot in a bikini? Who even am I??
So I did it. I bought a bathing suit. I went to a public pool. I spent 2 hours floating in the shadow of the High Bridge Water Tower, surrounded by strangers. And it was glorious.
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"What does body positivity mean to you?"
"So, look. The relationship we each have with our bodies is one of the most important and challenging relationships we'll ever have to cultivate, seeing as we're stuck with the one body our whole lives — and if dealing with the basic messiness inherent in owning a human body isn't enough to be getting on with, we also live in a culture that seems determined to poison that relationship from the get-go. We're slammed with body-shaming messages from the moment we're old enough to interact with society at all."
"The thing that happens when you teach people to be ashamed of their bodies is that you instill in them a deep belief that they're never enough, and the feeling of not being enough is a desperate feeling. Some people respond to it exactly the way capitalism wants them to — they pour money into products, clothes, food, and gym memberships that they think will help them measure up. Some people respond to it by hiding from life in an effort to avoid what feels like inevitable scrutiny from a world that tries to tell them they aren't good enough to exist. I have played both of those games, and let me tell you something: there's no way to win either one of them. You're setting yourself up to fail in both cases, because in both cases you are allowing someone else's rules to determine your worth. And NO ONE else has the power to do that — you're a human being, and as a human being, you're inherently worthy. That's just how that works."
"One of the things that kills me about body shame is that it can paralyze. Body shame is how we end up unable to enjoy our food. It’s how we end up afraid to show up at the gym lest some imaginary meathead gives us the stank-face for not looking perfect in our workout clothes. Body shame is how we stop ourselves from buying certain kinds of clothes because we 'can't get away with it.' It's how we end up having sex with the lights off and hiding our perceived 'body flaws' with strategically draped sheets. It's how we miss out on fun social opportunities because we don't feel attractive enough to be seen in public. It, in essence, kills our ability to enjoy some of the best things in life." — Megan Ribar
I'm extra glad now that I got that ice cream cone on the way home.
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Inspired by Smart Glamour.
And my niece: May you always be this happy in your skin. ♥
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