Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Is there anything worse than shopping for a bathing suit? Not for me.

The regimen of taking off all your clothes, just to stand in front of a three-way mirror, all for the pleasure of trying to squeeze a middle-aged body into a swath of spandex-like material? Please no.

But here's the thing. That same mirror, the one that provides an impartial, exacting assessment of all of my physical flaws, is later replaced by magical and forgiving pools of water. Once submerged, I am weightless and buoyant, unencumbered by the very body that brought me to the water's edge. 

Making peace with one's body, for some of us, takes a lifetime. Luckily for me, the older I get, the more grateful I've become.

"My bathing suit told me to go to the gym but my sweatpants were like, 'nah girl, you're good.'"