My body may not fit the conventional standards of perfection, but that doesn’t deter me from wearing a bikini. I have a C-section scar, my bust is fuller than ever, and let’s just say my abs have been MIA since 2002. Stretch marks adorn my thighs, waist, and even under my arms—seriously, what’s up with that? My thighs are robust, and my rear end is certainly not petite. I’ve got an extra 20 pounds that have settled in, and yes, I still dream of shedding that baby weight, even if my children are already 10 and 12.
No amount of airbrushing or body contouring can transform me back to the washboard abs I once had in my twenties. On a typical day, my bras are equipped with enough underwire to support a steel structure, and my underwear could compete with the corsets of the 19th century. The once “lacy” and “sexy” labels have been replaced by “supportive” and “sturdy.” The thought of zippers in my jeans makes me cringe, and I’ve nearly given up on ever fitting into my pre-kids wardrobe.
Yet, I confidently don my bikini.
After my son was born, I went through the typical hunt for the “ideal mom bathing suit.” I searched endlessly for a black bikini that provided ample coverage and support for my breasts while making me appear 30 pounds lighter. And yes, it had to feature ruching—something I didn’t even know existed but felt was essential to hide the evidence of motherhood and my imperfect body.
The perfect suit, in my mind, required a long skirt to discreetly cover my less-than-frequent bikini waxes and included some sort of padding for my breastfeeding nipples. By the time I finally found a suit that fit these criteria, I looked like an elderly Amish woman.
But I refuse to waste precious time worrying about societal expectations regarding what a mother should wear to the pool. The countless hours spent searching, trying on, and deliberating over a bathing suit simply weren’t worth it. I choose to wear bikinis because I enjoy them—and so should you.
My body has nurtured two children for 10 months each, completed six marathons, and produced milk to nourish my babies. My husband looks at me with admiration more times a week than I can count, and at 40, I find that I truly don’t care what others think.
I won’t hide my stretch marks with a cover-up. My soft abdomen doesn’t concern me, and if my nipples happen to show through my bikini top, well, that’s not my problem. If you’re focusing too much on my body, then maybe you should redirect your attention.
While there’s an abundance of articles promoting positive body image and building confidence in our daughters, we are still inundated with images of celebrities who appear flawless in tiny swimsuits, thanks to advanced editing techniques. Each May, as “Swimsuit Season” rolls around, our feeds are filled with ads claiming to help us shed pounds instantly, showcasing women who seem almost digitally created.
Why can’t we collectively embrace the idea of wearing whatever makes us happy at the pool? I find more inspiration in the woman confidently walking to the snack stand in her bikini, regardless of her body’s imperfections, than in someone with perfect abs. I admire the mom who reveals her postpartum body instead of hiding behind a cover-up. Those are the women who keep it real, and I salute them with my stretch-marked arm. We stand together, proclaiming, “This is me, and if you don’t like it, there’s a perfectly styled Barbie floating in the pool.”
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be applying sunscreen to my pale stomach while settling into my beach chair to watch my kids enjoy the pool. Oh, and if you happen to know what ruching is, please don’t bother telling me—I’m perfectly content as I am under the warm summer sun.
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Summary
Embracing body imperfections is vital for self-acceptance, especially when it comes to wearing a bikini. The author reflects on her journey through motherhood, the societal pressures of body image, and the importance of confidence over conforming to idealized standards. Wearing a bikini becomes a statement of empowerment rather than a source of insecurity.