My first steps

Today marks the day that I took a giant leap.  One major stride toward self-confidence that has so desperately been trying to get out.  Promises that one day I'd dip my toe in the waters were numbered.  One day needed to be today.  It felt like the Jesse White Tumblers were doing a routine in my stomach I was so nervous.  Other than splashing around in my sister's back yard pool I have not been in public in a swimsuit in well over a decade. Since moving back to Kankakee five years ago I have been promising my son that I'd lose weight and gain the confidence I needed to wear a bathing suit and get in the cooling water.  As you all know I have lost 35 pounds.  Today was the day.  I thought perhaps I'd catch a break when the weather man predicted sporadic rain. No such luck! The sky remained painted with puffy clouds on a background of glorious blue.  No excuses were handed to me.  Even though I have not obtained my goal weight, it was abundantly clear that even someone like me deserves to be refreshed on one of the hottest days of the year.  Why should I lock myself away inside because my vanity dictates that I should?  That little voice inside my head that says people will point and stare got the better of me in the past.  You know you're being foolish when a 15 year old child reasons that people will be having too much fun on the water slides and splashing around with friends and family to care about my chubby, veiny legs -- that is the reason I keep myself covered from head to toe.  Heredity was kind in the boob department, but cursed me in the leg zone.

Here's how it all went down:

I told Mancub that I'd wrap my towel around my waist and walk to the steps of the lazy river venue. There, he could hand me a flotation tube then take the towel back to my chair. I put on sunscreen and let it soak in.  It wasn't long before I began to bake and longed to be in the water.  My tuchus was anchored on the deck chair. I couldn't move.  Mancub had already taken to the water slides that feed into the lazy river.  Before I knew it he was floating by and asked if I was getting in the water.  I told him to bring me a tube.  Instead of wrapping the towel around me to hide my legs I figured I'd use the over-sized tube to camouflage my unsightly gams. He picked up float for me, but didn't walk it over.  I looked around at all the other women and men who seemed to proudly parade around in their swim attire despite having cellulite, beer guts, cesarean scars and yes, even varicose veins.  For the record, there was a beer bellied

Look ma! No muu-muu!

dude in a Speedo. Grasping the arms of the chair, I pushed up to a standing position ... and left the towel behind. With shoulders back, I walked across the pool deck to my child. No towel wrapped around my abundant tushy.  My heart was racing.  No one there knew how nervous I was to stroll about in little more than my underpants and a camisole. Leopard print, no less! Not one person there was aware that I'd recently lost thirty five pounds. For all they knew I'd always been this size. It doesn't matter what they think. The seed for that manner of thinking is newly planted, but with continued nurturing it will grow and blossom.

For what seemed hours I toured 'round and 'round that lazy river without a care in the world.  Kids splashed by me and never cried out in horror.  Not once did I catch adult women pointing and whispering about the hidousness of seeing someone my size in the water.  Never did I hear the someone scream out, "Free Willy!!!!"  Yeah, I have some work to do on my confidence, but like I said, today was a major step in the right direction.