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Your Focus Determines Your Reality

Like many women, I am not completely comfortable wearing a swimsuit…or even trying one on. It wasn’t always that way. Some summers I practically lived in one, loving to run through sprinklers and splash in wading pools all day long. Until I was about ten years old. I was still a wee wisp of a thing, but puberty was working its changes…making me feel awkward, uncomfortable and exposed. Though I hovered right around 100 pounds for years afterwards, soaking wet, I often felt like Bloaty the Pizza Hog. For a while I wore only the plainest black swimsuits (if ever I dared remove my camouflage of baggy clothing) hoping that I wouldn’t draw much attention to myself. But I probably did just that, with my glow-in-the-dark alabaster skin. I can remember feeling at ease in my skin for just a few years of my adult life, mostly after regular visits to the dojo. Or during that brief period when I was pregnant with the little man…after I’d popped out and was glowing, but before I became behemothic. I do tune out the media’s stereotyping of beauty and body image as much as possible, including the current crop of female Olympian asses I could never hope to compete with. So finally, after adjusting to my post-motherhood snickerdoodle-loving physique, I’ve nurtured the fuckitwhocares attitude necessary to wear this snazzy parakeet green swimsuit in public. But this breakthrough has coincided with our first frost advisory* of the pre-autumn season. I just can’t win.
* True, this advisory applies to Northern Minnesota, but it’s hardly warm enough here to hit the free outdoor wading pools any time soon. At least it’s good sleeping weather.

my big belly, being prepped to give birth to the little man