Today I wore an itsy bitsy teenie weenie hot pink string bikini to a pool party in the Valley.
What IS this body that I'm occupying?
I mean, what person have I become? Who AM I?
I have definitely weighed less in the past than I do now. I have definitely been in better shape than now. But the closest I have ever gotten to today's getup was appearing in a push-up bra, hot pants and tights for my college production of Chicago, in which I danced and sang in the chorus. I think I was fatter then. I don't really remember.
What in God's name possessed me to go out in public like that today? Is it California?
Or is it just that I feel so much better now, thirty pounds lighter, than I did six months ago when I started this new regime? After taking only two years to gain 20 pounds, I barely recognized myself anymore at the start of the new year. And now, six months later, I still barely recognize myself.
Maybe it's also that I just don't care. When I tried on the bikini, I told myself, "Someone has to wear the size Large, otherwise they wouldn't sell it. It might as well be me."
Even with my grotesque bruises from my hiking yesterday, my pale white untanned midriff, and the light purple scar on my side, I was OK with being practically naked in front of other people. In fact, I kind of couldn't wait to take my clothes off and jump in the pool.
It was just a couple of weeks ago that I wore a bikini - a much more modest one - for the first time ever in my conscious life. (I have no memory over what my parents dressed me in as a baby, and it doesn't count.) Now that I've finally been brave enough to show my stuff, and people have not recoiled in horror, I can't really imagine ever covering it up again.
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