Since high school graduation eleven years ago, I have changed quite a bit. But then again, there are some things that haven't changed. I'd like to say that I still have a pretty sunny disposition and I really like to see the good in people and give them the benefit of the doubt. Back then, when I graduated, I had some serious body image issues that I still struggle with. Back then, however, I had no reason to be worried or ashamed of the way I looked. I was super hot! (Relatively speaking of course.) I had a teeny tiny 24 inch waist, teeny tiny boobies (boo), and sported nicely curved hips. Since that time I have gained about forty pounds (as of last year it was almost 60 gained, so yay me for dropping that number!) and popped out two children. My skin, clearly not genetically enhanced by Mr.Fantastic or Stretch Armstrong, did not gracefully handle the amount of stretching that occurred during the weight gain or the two pregnancies.
Last year I bought myself a tankini to help resolve the issue of the belly button and stretch marks. Really I can handle the stretch marks. The thing that kills me is this imploded crater that is permanently stuck in the middle of my gut. Well, this year when I put on the tankini I was shocked to discover that the dang thing is *drumroll please* TOO BIG! OK, so now what? I put on this bikini that I bought a few years ago and only wore when we had a backyard pool of our own. Of course it fit, but then I'm stuck with the problem of the belly button. I can't possibly show it to anyone. What would they think?
After wrestling with my own brain for two freakin weeks I came to the conclusion that:
1.If it weren't for the offensive belly button, I would be totally ok with showing off my tummy. EFF the stretch marks, I've got two kids!
2. I'm proud of the progress that I've made and my midsection is really not too shabby.
3. I need to GET OVER IT and realize that no amount of working out or sit ups is going to get rid of it. So.
I wore the bikini. TWICE. First at the lake with a group of friends. This was an all day process. First I had the bikini on under my tank top, then the tank top got folded up while I was sitting in the sun and pulled back down when anyone came near me, then I said screw it and took the tank top off and then I said oh screw it again and the shorts came off. The second time was at a Fourth of July barbecue with family and friends. And you know what? I was okay. Nobody ran screaming. Nobody pointed and laughed. (Thank goodness.)
I'm taking what I've been given and dealing with it. And it feels great.