Dear Elli,
Today, I made two terrible mistakes. I bought a swimsuit without trying it on. And then, when your father got home, I put it on and asked his opinion.
You see, swimsuit shopping is like wading through a river of torment and anguish. Like all the layers of hell smashed together and crammed into a fitting room stall. With way too many mirrors.
Most of us would rather amputate a limb with a rusty spoon. And it truly doesn't matter whether you are a size 2 or 22. It sucks for everyone. Because, in a swimsuit, you are essentially parading around naked for the general public to observe. There is no hiding.
So I bought a swimsuit today. To take home and try on in the privacy of our home. In case I needed to cry a little.
And surprisingly, it fit. Fairly well. Except for the top, which made my boobs look kind of weird. Maybe. I couldn't really tell for sure. Because I'm a freak. And I'm always convinced that swimsuits make some part of my body look either disgusting or weird.
You said I looked "really pretty", but I don't trust you. Because you also told me my hair looked "really pretty" when I woke up this morning. You're just being nice. Because your survival still pretty much depends on me. Smart girl.
So I traipsed downstairs in my swimsuit and asked your father. He said it looked "good". And instead of thanking him and going back upstairs, I pressed further. Did he think my boobs look weird? "Ummm...no?", he said. "It looks fine, Jenn. It's a swimsuit. It looks like a swimsuit. It's fine."
Great. Now it it's just "fine". I should probably fling myself out a window. Or only swim in a giant T-shirt. Or never swim at all. In fact, we should only vacation in land locked places with ordinances against the construction of swimming pools. I'm booking next year's vacation in the North FREAKING Pole. How "fine" does that sound? Asshole.
In all fairness, your father did nothing wrong. I did. Because, short of having a massive heart attack over the awesomeness of me in a swimsuit, there is no response that would have made this a winning situation for him. He was screwed from the moment I asked his opinion. Sorry.
But in my defense, I'm usually nothing like this emotionally charged "typical woman" stereotype. In fact, my behavior is normally very logical and unemotional. Kind of like a man. A short man. With boobs. And highlights. And well-groomed eyebrows.
So I'm going to forgive myself this evening for my swimsuit mistakes. Because I'm human. And I will be kind and gentle with my psyche regarding my new swimsuit. Because my boobs probably don't look that weird. Maybe just a little weird. And I will pray that my Mother-in-Law does not tag me in unflattering vacation swimsuit photos on Facebook. Because her idea of a "cute" photo is usually not very cute.
I love you. And I hope your boobs look forever awesome in every swimsuit you ever try on!
Mom
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