This whole "loving your body" thing...

I bought a swimsuit today and it was exactly as much fun as you might imagine.

Unless buying a swimsuit actually IS fun for you, in which case, scratch that.

You know how sometimes women post pictures of themselves in swimsuits and people are like "woo hoo! Sexy! Blah blah blah  hot mama!" Or whatever it is that they say.  And then other women post pictures of themselves in swimsuits and people are like, "oh're so BRAVE."

That's what was going through my head the whole time I was trying on swimsuits. I knew I wanted to blog about this experience and this whole body thing I'm going through but when I thought about posting a picture of myself in a swimsuit, I just knew I was going to be the "brave" girl.

Which...I mean...NO.

I'm pretty good at facing a lot of my fears and insecurities, but not that one. I have absolutely zero desire to be the brave girl in the swimsuit picture. And besides, I'm pretty sure I'd totally freak out on the first person who called me brave for wearing a swimsuit.

I mentioned on facebook the other day that I had joined a gym because I hate my body. And that feels weird because first - we're *supposed* to love our bodies and second - aren't I the one always saying that we're enough?

And so....I don't really HATE my body. And my body IS enough. It does what it's supposed to do and carries me from the beginning to the end of each day without incident. It does throw migraines my way fairly often and that's less than fun.  There are some stomach issues. And my feet and my uterus need some surgical assistance, but other than that, the body is good. It works. It does its job.

It IS enough.

But here's the thing...

It could be better.  

I know this. Once upon a time I was a stripper.  And as a stripper, I regularly climbed two story high poles, flipped my entire body upside down and crawled back down that pole, face first, like a cat. Which, as you can imagine, requires an incredible amount of strength and balance. I had all sorts of muscle tone. I was strong.

And then, the other day I made a time lapse video of a painting I was working on. I was wearing a tank top and all you could see was my back and when I watched the video I was all, "oh my god. WHEN DID I GET MY GRANDMOTHERS ARMS??????" (Yeah. I deleted that video. So fast. )

I know what this body is capable of. I'm pretty sure that if James and I got in a car accident and the car was on fire, that I could lift him up and drag him to safety. I'm sure I could do that.

But I also know that I tried to lift 10 pounds of weight for an hour in an exercise class today and failed spectacularly. Because what my body has done in the past, what it could do in a life or death situation and what it does on a regular basis now are vastly different.

So I'm doing some work to make it better.  Not necessarily to make it what it was...just what I know it could be. What I would like it to be.

And then...

And then I went to try on swimsuits and you know how that goes (do you?).  The dressing room lights at Target are completely unforgiving and if you thought you had some parts that you weren't happy about before, are more than aware of them when you're standing under the bright lights of the Target dressing room in an ill fitting swimsuit.

Ill fitting because my clothing size fluctuates all over the place. I grab a few swimsuits in all of the sizes and NONE of them fit.

So...I know my body is enough but it could be better and I'm working on making it better but dear God in heaven, how on earth am I ever going to be comfortable with my size if I NEVER know what size I am? I literally never take the right size into the dressing room because, depending on who makes the clothes, I am a size 2.

A size 4.
A size 6.
A medium.
A petite small.
A plus size.
Or an 8.

Just a couple of things from my closet. In all of the sizes.

Pretty much any time I go into a dressing room to try anything on, it's just defeating. It's terrible. There have been times where I am wearing size 6 jeans and I take a pair of size 6 jeans into the dressing room and I can't get them over my leg. Or, I try on a different pair of size 6 jeans and I'm swimming in them. The only answer is to literally take every single size of whatever it is that I want to try on and do some lucky guessing.

Anyway, I had a point but I went off on that clothing size tangent...

I guess my point is, it's ok to love your body and to think that your body is enough, but also to know that it could be better and to try to make it better. I mean - it's yours. Whatever works for you, right?

And also, when you go to try stuff on and nothing fits, there's a good chance that has nothing to do with you and has everything to do with the Random Size Generator that I'm quite sure all clothing companies use.

OH!!! And also again, if you're one of those people who are trying to make your body better and you're sweating and flailing and uncoordinated and squishy and weak...

ME TOO!!!! And we've totally got this!!! We will flail and trip and sweat our way into a better version of ourselves, no matter how silly we look. I believe in me, therefore, I believe in you.

This isn't a swimsuit picture.
This picture is after day two at the gym, when I almost passed out and I almost puked and I'm not even kidding. 
I am not the cool looking chick at the gym. 
I'm the hot mess.
I'm fine with that.
I'm going to keep going back.

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