I had the pleasure of basking in the Caribbean sunshine last week. I had intended to drop that last five pounds before I hit the beach looking less than bikini ready, but didn't. So I purchased the swimsuits that promised to tuck and tighten where my ab crunches had not. I did not want to show the bulges; I wanted to hide what I viewed as my body's imperfections.
Other people at the beach had a different approach. A fellow sun bather whose bathing suit did nothing to hide her less than firm places was preparing herself to enjoy the tropical warmth--I wondered why she hadn't gone for a striped look (that's supposed to slim one down, I hear). Then I saw it. The pink survivor's cap. She had lived through breast cancer. She had lived to see another sunset, another sunrise and another glorious day on the beach. She had fought for the right to flaunt her body at the beach.
What about you? Have you survived what life has thrown at you? If you have lived to see another day, the world needs to see you. The world needs to know that you, like the rest of us, are imperfectly perfect: flabby abs, horizontal stripes and all. Don't tuck. You had the baby. Don't tighten. You got through the surgery, the radiation treatments, the unemployment, the chemotherapy and the divorce. Don't camouflage. We know that it hurt, and you've got the scars to prove it. We don't want an illusion. We want to know that we, too, can survive.
Show us your beach body. Show us who you really are and we will celebrate in the sun, together, scars and all.
Other people at the beach had a different approach. A fellow sun bather whose bathing suit did nothing to hide her less than firm places was preparing herself to enjoy the tropical warmth--I wondered why she hadn't gone for a striped look (that's supposed to slim one down, I hear). Then I saw it. The pink survivor's cap. She had lived through breast cancer. She had lived to see another sunset, another sunrise and another glorious day on the beach. She had fought for the right to flaunt her body at the beach.
What about you? Have you survived what life has thrown at you? If you have lived to see another day, the world needs to see you. The world needs to know that you, like the rest of us, are imperfectly perfect: flabby abs, horizontal stripes and all. Don't tuck. You had the baby. Don't tighten. You got through the surgery, the radiation treatments, the unemployment, the chemotherapy and the divorce. Don't camouflage. We know that it hurt, and you've got the scars to prove it. We don't want an illusion. We want to know that we, too, can survive.
Show us your beach body. Show us who you really are and we will celebrate in the sun, together, scars and all.
