Settle yourself in for literally my most revealing post yet. I have sat here for the past 3 hours deciding whether I wanted to write this post or not. In the end, I’ve decided that even if I am ridiculed, it will only be in a virtual sense…and it’ll be the equivalent of someone talking behind my back.
I can deal with that.
The alternative of just allowing all of these thoughts the opportunity to swirl through my mind without venting them would probably be more damaging than any potential outcome of EXPOSING myself.
I give you this. MY version of “EXPOSED”. The very thought of hitting “publish” on this post makes my heart beat fast. Makes me have a severe case of sweaty pits. Makes me all shaky.
(Maybe that’s the coffee I just drank in preparation for this post.)
In all of my “recovered” glory, I’ve still been relying upon the same 3 bathing suits for the past 5-6 years. I can also count on 1 hand the number of times that I’ve worn said bathing suits outside of the comfort of my own family. Like many women, I have a bathing suit complex (BSC?). I’ve been considering for the past few months (with vacation and honeymoon fast-approaching) that this is one hurdle that I have not jumped over yet.
I didn’t even approach the hurdle, run into it and knock it over. I’ve just avoided it altogether.
OH, bathing suits! ***shudder***!
As I have in the past, I started to feel like a sham again. I just really hate that feeling, and I have to purge it.
When I went to Everything But Water last night, I didn’t really plan on buying a bathing suit. I didn’t think I’d be trying on 643 bathing suits. In addition, I didn’t think that I’d be ultimately modeling these bathing suits for the whole world to see. The pictures that I took were for my own use, and also to allow My Gazelle to have a vote in the process.
(I know that I shouldn’t care what he thinks, but sometimes we need the opinion of someone other than the girl who is earning a commission on our purchase. Ya know?)
Also on the list of “I didn’t think’s” is the fact that I didn’t think that I would be free of self-doubt while trying on all of those suits. I anticipated at least one dressing room meltdown. But, it didn’t happen.
Oh sure, there were things that didn’t look right on me…but there was no self-loathing or body blocking going on.
Although, I did consider the fact that a touch of Lipo would do wonders for my back fat.
See how that works?
Back fat. I just told you that I have back fat. I’ve spent my life trying to deny the fact that I have back fat, and here I am…telling everyone. The strange thing about the whole “trying on 983 bathing suits” process for me is that last night, I was in the moment and I escaped fairly unscathed.
However, today I want to start a crash diet immediately.
See how THAT works?
It’s evil, this brain of mine.
The only logical (is any of this really ?!LOGICAL!?) way for me to purge myself of this negativity is to just throw it out there into the universe. I’m giving it to the universe because I just don’t want it anymore.
This morning when I made the decision to become an out-of-work bikini model, I also considered only showing you the “good” pictures. However, this would not really be truly EXPOSED, and I would not really be PURGING myself of this negativity if I didn’t show you the good, the bad, and the back fat.
I could sit here and tell you all types of tree-hugger-save-the-world-with-my-blog-post reasons why I’m going to hit “publish” on this post, but really…truly…it’s about me, people. It’s about being able to have the balls to let everyone see me in my most EXPOSED sense (PG-Rated anyway), and not feel like I’m inferior to anyone who is seeing me in all of my bikini’ed glory.
I don’t HAVE to fit “YOUR” cookie-cutter molded version of what “YOU” think I should look like in this bikini. Because your vision is impaired by your own insecurity. Stop projecting on me.
Because I’m pretty fu@k!ng awesome. Back fat and all.
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