Last week, I updated my facebook status with the following post:
"For the first time in 15 years, I wore a bikini at a Brazilian beach and, not only did I not feel fat, I actually felt GOOD about my body. Thanks to Alexandra for introducing me to affordable yoga at Laughing Lotus, Sarah for introducing me to Shaklee, and my brother for teaching me his work-out as well as living with me and buying me yogurt and soy milk. =)"
The post got a bunch of comments, likes, and private messages. A lot of so happy for you's and tell me more's. It was a true statement. I did feel good about my body, and it registered as a completely new feeling. I attributed it to the things I mentioned, but there was also a smaller factor that played a part in how I felt. It seemed like a little thing, but it was actually tied to something so big I decided it had to be a blog post rather than a facebook status update.
This small thing that made a difference in how I felt about my body was a big bikini.
When I planned this trip, it involved going to the beach with my then-boyfriend. As I thought about going to a beach in Brazil with him, I felt my stomach sink.
Going to a beach in Brazil has always been a really intimidating experience. I was faced with not only my own insecurities about my body, but also the comparison to hundreds of near-perfect beautiful female bodies in tiny bikinis all around me. I hadn't gone to the beach here with a boyfriend in many many years, and now my insecurities tripled at the thought of it. So, when I was here in December, I went shopping for a bikini that might hide some of my cellulite and help mask my love handles. I always wore pretty small bikinis here (never thongs! just small), because that's what girls my age wore, and because I knew that most men thought smaller tan lines were sexier. Those small bikinis, however, tended to leave my cellulite exposed and cut at my waist-line, accentuating my love-handles rather than minimizing them. I figured that if I starved myself until March and had a bikini that helped me hide my "flaws," I wouldn't spend my whole time at the beach wondering if I looked like a whale next to all those model-like bodies, and fearing that my boyfriend would be turned off by my body.
I was furious at myself for having these thoughts and insecurities, but I couldn't help it. They were bigger than me. It was actually easier and took less energy to try and "fix" them than to tell myself how absurd and unreal they were. I started losing weight and I bought a new bikini.
I never thought I'd actually
feel good about my body.
Feeling good about my body seemed like a far-off fantasy. A land I'd never ever reach. While I strove to reach my "ideal body," I always believed it would never be possible. I would never be thin enough. I would never feel good in a bikini. I only ever thought I'd feel less bad.
But I did lose weight. After my break-up, I lost my appetite, so it was easier. I dove into yoga, started a nutrition program, and focused on my body. It did feel good. When I got to Brazil a week and a half ago, I felt better about my body than I had in a long, long time. But if I had worn one of my tiny bikinis, I would still have felt uncomfortable. The realization dawned on me as I took my dress off at the beach. For the first time in my life, I didn't immediately start adjusting my bikini as soon as I was exposed. I didn't fuss with the top to make sure it covered my breasts in a way that didn't leave any fat hanging from the sides- this bikini was big enough to hold everything in. I didn't keep pulling the back of my bottom piece out in a futile attempt to cover up more of my butt- this bikini was already in place. And I didn't pull at the strings on the side to make sure they were as loose as possible so as not to cut into my sides- this bikini didn't have strings, and it didn't divide my mid-section into top blubber and bottom blubber. I was actually comfortable in this bikini. And I realized,
This bikini is so me! All those other tiny bikinis weren't me! They were me trying to be someone I'm not, someone who's comfortable in small bikinis and exposing a lot of skin. I'm not comfortable with that! It's so simple! I just have to wear a bigger bikini! How amazing!!! It was an amazing feeling, and it lingered for days. It seems like a small feat but it's actually tied to a much larger triumph.
It was the first time I actually understood the overstated phrase, "Be yourself." Instead of wearing what I thought I should wear, I wore what I wanted to wear. I gave up caring if people would think I was conservative or had chosen a bikini that was more appropriate for older women. I gave up trying to get tiny tan lines that other people thought were sexy.
In wearing this bikini that I was so comfortable in, I was being Larissa. I discovered that being Larissa meant wearing a bigger bikini, one that allowed me to move freely and enjoy the beach without the usual body-paranoia. I felt a huge relief.
What propelled me to buy the bikini was a desire to look a certain way for someone else. He never got to see me in my new bikini or new-found comfort and ease, though. And I never got to imagine that he thought I was attractive and hot anyway, even in comparison to other beautiful women at the beach. Instead, I discovered something about myself that was really important. It has inspired me to look at all of my actions and identify whether I'm
Being Larissa or
Being Who I'd Like To Be. I've always been a person of particular and consistent tastes. My favorite color has always been purple. My favorite animal has always been the koala. I've always preferred solid prints. I've always liked the same music (folk and country), try as I have to adapt to modern tastes. I've never liked sports. I've always liked sad movies. I always loved sleeping in nightgowns. Still, with all this knowledge about what I most definitely like and don't like, I still tried to be someone other than myself, a lot of the time.
I thought that holding on to what I know I like meant I wasn't open to new things. I thought it would make me grow as a person to live outside my comfort zone. Now I realize I actually grow the most when I'm true to myself. As soon as I found this bikini that made me feel so much more like myself, I was able to be present. Much like when I'm in a theatre, a setting where I feel instantly at home, I didn't have to worry about looking like I was comfortable and belonged. I simply was. The experience was exhilarating.
It's ridiculous that I was trying to hide my "flaws" from the person I was romantically involved with, and that I was trying to influence how he thought about me. People will think whatever they want to think, and there's very little I can do about it. I see that now, more than ever.
It isn't easy not to care about what other people think.
It takes a lot of conscious effort to "be myself," and a lot of confidence to trust that that's what someone will fall in love with. The bikini was a big step for me and, even so, I discovered it because I was trying to project an image of myself that I thought would be appealing to someone else. I didn't really do it for myself, but it served me nonetheless. I learned something about myself, and now I can honor it.
Wear a bigger bikini. Be comfortable. Be Larissa.
Lesson learned.
