Thank You Mamas
In the isolation of my own home, in November, faced with last year’s swimsuit, pale thighs, and unmanicured forestation, I am invariably nervous about the impending summer of swimming. When during the winter months I’ve seen an overrepresentation of svelte figures acting in Netflix/HBO/ABC shows, my mind is tricked into believing that my figure is an anomaly, and one that should be hidden.
Always, I fall back on my own mantra “no one is too fat to go swimming” and I jam all the other frequencies in my head until, the swimsuit on, I head out into public. Sometimes I message friends and say, “help me out, I need a pep talk” and they send me links to awesome blogposts like this one. And you tube videos like this one.
Then, at some point, I’m at a popular beach, and there are women everywhere in swimsuits, and they span the broad continuum of figures, and I fit somewhere along that, and I feel part of a sisterhood of women who don swimsuits and swim and in this gigantic, heroic way rebel against the bullshit on our screens that tries to tell us that women need to be skinny.
And in this way we show our daughters and sons that our figures are real, and they are just, life – not good, nor bad, not something to tame nor beat into submission – they just are.
I want to thank that sisterhood of women, especially mamas, who stood, sat, swam on the beach with me, enjoying the sun and surf, and were part of the revolution to claim our bodies exactly how they are. I want to hold onto that feeling so that next November, when I pull out the swimsuit again, I don’t even have a second thought about the figure that’s going into it.