Prescription Bikini

I went to see my crazy-friend (remember that's what I call my therapist) last Friday and it was a really good session. I went in feeling really great about all the positive changes I have made over the last month since I saw her. They are baby steps, of course, but I felt good about things. I talk mostly with her about my body image issues and about relationships. (Surprise, surprise, they mostly tend to be all jumbled up together.) I have made some decent progress at finding balance in my diet — which I'll talk more about on Weigh-in Wednesday this week — and tried to get out of the "I'm on a diet and I can't have that" mentality. I'm still working out 5-6 days every week and I'm maintaining my weight. Great. Except that it's not the weight I would like to be maintaining it. It's about 6 pounds up from where I would ideally like to be — where I feel pretty damn comfortable in my skin.

My crazy-friend and I talked a lot about set-points for weight and how I am angry that mine is at a number I am at odds with. I am angry that no matter how hard I workout, how many calories I cut, how many carbs I don't eat and how many miles I run, I can't seem to ever maintain at the weight I want. I can get there by throwing my body some curve balls and it feels great when I do. But then I get so stick of eating  (or not eating) on my extreme diet plans that I fall off of them altogether and end up back where I started. At my dreaded set-point. I am angry that despite the fact that I work out more and watch what I eat more than anyone else I hang around with, I still can't wear a two-piece bathing suit. I worked this hard for all these years and I can't even feel the satisfaction of wearing a bikini for one blissful summer at the beach? Seriously? What the hell? How is that even possible?

Here's the thing: I am angry but I am also understanding of the fact that everyone has a different body with different genes and I can't really change that fact. Do I want to train my body to weigh 6 pounds less without me having to completely kill myself at the gym and be starving most of the time? Sure, I do. But I'm not willing to pay the price to do so. It's just too steep. So, that leaves me two choices: stay bitter and pissed off and hating my current weight or accept it and learn to love it. As of now, I would like to find some middle ground there because I am honestly unwilling to commit to either of those options. I am not ready to pay the price of getting to my ideal number and living there. I have no idea what that would look like but I have a pretty good idea that it could very well land me crying on my bathroom floor again with my finger down my throat. (In case you have no idea what I am talking about, check out last week's Dirty Little Secret post.) So, in this land of accepting my for me and learning to find my version of balance, my crazy-friend told me she had made a clear decision on what I needed. And then she told me what I should do...

I completely saw the light bulb go off in her head and I knew what she was going to say before she even said it. "I think it's only logical that you buy a bikini. And wear it," she said. Exposure therapy — beachwear-style. To be truthful, I have looked at bikinis in the past. I have tried them on a half-dozen times over the past 2 years since losing the weight. And I am always almost ready to whip out my credit card when I chicken out completely because I decide I am still just too fat. Or not toned enough. Or not something enough. Last year, I ordered a red and white polka-dotted high-waisted bikini from Modcloth and sat with it for a few days. I took pictures of myself in it and decided it just didn't look quite cute enough so I sent it back. Last week I found those pictures again randomly and was impressed with how "not that bad" they looked to me. When I mentioned this detail to my crazy-friend, she was more confident in her earlier statement.

With this therapy order fresh in my mind, I did a little internet shopping this weekend. I knew I would want to go with high-waisted again if I had any hope of feeling comfortable enough in the two small pieces of fabric. A high-waisted bikini is hypothetically the answer to my bikini prayers. It will cover all the parts of my stomach I hate and will still leave enough uncovered for me to feel like I am really wearing a two-piece bathing suit that still resembles a bikini. (Not like a tankini...those are just glorified one-pieces. Good choice but I've been wearing those since I was 9. Not what I am looking for.) After searching through a dozen or so sites, I found a website called "Unique Vintage" online and a suit that seems like it will work for me. Or so I hope. I ordered it in a medium and I am praying it fits and looks decent enough. I feel like as long as I don't want to cut it off of me and immediately torch it for the shame, I should keep it. I should sit with it and let it sink in until summer comes and it's bathing suit season. I am hoping if I keep trying it on long enough and keep working my way into some semblance of comfort in it, I will actually be able to wear it.

Here's what I ordered:



The one major downside of this prescription bikini would be that I will have to finally tell my mom about another small and up-til-now always hidden tattoo on my left rib. Of course, I may have just told her since she blog-stalks me from time to time. Hi, Mom... sorry, Mom. It's not that bad, I swear, Mom. Love you, Mom!

So, I'll probably get it late this week or early next in the mail. I'm already trying to mentally prepare. *It's not so bad. It's not so bad. I look amazing. Goddess. Goddess. Goddess.*