Not too long ago, I found myself wallowing in self-pity after an embarrassing attempt at swimsuit shopping. Before I became a mom, I could skip the fitting room altogether, as I was always a size small. Fast forward to today, and you’ll find me, devoid of any confidence, holding a jumble of sizes outside the dressing room, sweating as if I’m trying to sneak contraband past security.
The transformation of my body didn’t happen overnight. It took nine months to bring a little one into the world, so why did I expect my body to snap back to its former self immediately? I can’t help but think the flawless images of celebrity moms on magazine covers played a role in my unrealistic expectations. The truth is, regaining a sense of normalcy is a long, often frustrating journey. However, I’ve had moments where I don’t actively despise my stomach, which feels like a small victory!
Like many, I tend to assign blame for my frustrations elsewhere. Society, of course! Isn’t it a tad strange that women are only encouraged to love their bodies during pregnancy? Once I made it past the stage of “I’m carrying a baby, not just indulging,” I was thrilled to wear fitted clothing without any adjustments. Now, the only time I find myself in something remotely snug is on laundry day, when desperation forces me out of the house. Seriously, I’ve been known to dodge the delivery guy while wearing sweats and a look of regret.
As summer approached and my desire to avoid social isolation grew stronger, I knew I had to channel my inner warrior and tackle swimsuit shopping again. While I haven’t given in to the classic black one-piece just yet, I’m also not the target audience for Target’s vibrant, tribal print bikinis. Instead, I wandered the racks in search of something that struck a balance between practical and stylish. After selecting a few contenders, I headed to the fitting room, only to be greeted by a distorted mirror. Surely, it was a funhouse mirror, right? Because I don’t recall having cellulite in that area.
Just when I thought my most mortifying moment was the time I accidentally “snarted” (sneezing + farting) in front of my doctor, the universe had other plans. I struggled to pull the swimsuit bottoms past my thighs without losing feeling in my legs. My pride, however, was oblivious to the danger, so I hopped and jiggled until they finally went on. I swear the fabric felt like it was cutting into me. At that moment, a pint of Haagen Dazs felt absolutely necessary.
In the end, I chose a swimsuit that resembled the style of a beige loafer—functional, but not exactly fashionable. Opting for a two-piece made me feel like a daring feminist, so it wasn’t a total loss. I achieved my goal of avoiding a muu muu for swim functions, which felt like an accomplishment in itself. Who knows? Maybe next summer I’ll be brave enough to not crop myself out of family beach photos.
This post initially appeared on May 14, 2021.
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Summary:
In this light-hearted reflection, Emily Carter shares her tumultuous journey with swimsuit shopping post-baby. Navigating societal expectations and personal insecurities, she humorously recounts the struggle to find a swimsuit that balances style and comfort. Ultimately, she embraces her choices while reflecting on the ongoing journey of self-acceptance.