I went to the beach yesterday with hubby, and WOW, were there a lot of people there.
It always surprises me when I'm there to see these little thirteen-year-old tarts running around in little to nothing, and strutting around like they're the sexiest thing that ever happened to a bikini.
To the thirteen-year-old that I saw yesterday in the isty-bitsy-red-bikini-with-a-playboy-bunny-on-it: Honey. Please. You don't even have tits yet. What are these childrens' mothers thinking?
I have to also say that I'm doing better with this whole self-image-as-it-relates-to-my-bathing-suit thing. Hubby and I went shopping at Target together for one. Bathing suit shopping is never, and I repeat, never fun. But he wanted me to go and try some bikinis on since I've lost all of this weight (35 pounds so far!). We found a nice one (of course strings everywhere) and I gave it a shot yesterday.
We arrived at the beach early and changed at the Fenwick Island bath house. It was so cool in the breeze off the ocean that I had to keep my cover-up on until almost noon, by which time the beach was teeming with people.
About that time I was starting to swelter and hubby put up the umbrella. Still hot, even in the shade, I thought, "Well, all right chicka-- it's now or never!" After carefully arranging my lounge chair and beach blanket, I stripped off the shorts and tee-shirt, all the while thinking, "Okay, just breathe-- there are lots of people out here who look worse than you,"
To my amazement, no one ran screaming.
It was a novel feeling, I have to say. Here I was, nearly naked in public, and I even got a cat-call from a cute college guy. So, with even more ambition to do the thing justice, I'm going running today. After all, you only live once, right?
