Somewhere along the way, women were convinced that summer is something we have to earn. We tell ourselves we’ll wear the bikini when we lose ten pounds. When our stomach is flatter. When our arms are firmer. When our thighs stop touching. When our cellulite magically disappears.
Of course, social media doesn’t exactly help.
Meanwhile, summer keeps showing up whether we’re ready or not.
Here’s the thing: motherhood, childbearing, and simply having the privilege of getting older changes our bodies. That’s not a flaw in the design. That IS the design.
Stretch marks happen. Love handles happen. Cellulite happens. Chicken wing arms happen. And yes, the dreaded cottage cheese legs happen. And the funny part? Most of us are walking around worried about the exact same things – we are spending an incredible amount of time trying to hide the very features that actually connect us. It’s a wildly universal experience.
Look around the next time you’re at the beach, pool, or splash pad. You’ll see stretch marks. You’ll see cellulite. You’ll see soft stomachs. You’ll see bodies that have survived all the seasons: the ones where you carried your babies and worked long shifts. There is solidarity in that.
None of us are as alone in our insecurities as we think we are.
For years, I worried about all of it. I tugged at swimsuit bottoms. I strategically positioned beach towels. I sucked in my stomach every time a camera appeared. Admittedly, I will catch myself sometimes still doing these things.
I spent entirely too much energy trying to control how I looked instead of enjoying where I was.
Then something shifted: I got tired. Not tired of my body, but tired of overthinking it. Tired of treating every pool party, beach day, and vacation photo like some sort of performance review: as if summer fun with my family was contingent upon my thigh dimpling (or lack thereof).
And the weirdest thing happened when I stopped caring so much: I actually started getting more compliments. And that’s not because I suddenly looked different. I didn’t lose weight. My cellulite was (is) still celluliting. I think it was because the energy I was putting out into the world changed: I wasn’t focused on tucking and sucking.
Instead, I was present. I was running through sprinklers, grabbing water balloons, building sand castles, and lying out on beach chairs. I got into the pool instead of just “sticking my legs in.” I embraced my body – cottage cheese legs and all.
Confidence is funny like that. It has very little to do with having the perfect body and everything to do with being comfortable living inside the one you have.
And if you’re a mom (especially a girl-mom), here’s what I want you to remember: Your children (your daughters) are watching. And newsflash: they don’t see your love handles. They don’t notice your cellulite. They aren’t zooming in on your stretch marks.
They see their mom: the person who makes their world go round. The one who is responsible for summer magic.
They don’t need a perfect-looking mom. In fact, I bet they don’t even know what that is. But they do want and need a present one.
So this summer, wear the damn bikini. Wear the one-piece. Wear the tankini. Wear the cover-up. Wear whatever makes you happy. Just don’t spend another season sitting on the sidelines waiting for a body that was never required in the first place.
Summer is happening NOW. Get in the picture. Jump in the pool. Take the trip. Eat the ice cream. And wear the damn bikini.
