Three words can strike fear into this woman’s heart during
spring: bathing suit season. This has
always been true for me. I have never
had a great body image. Throughout my
life, I have strategically dressed to camouflage my thick arms, my very hippy hips,
my lumpy thighs. I have gained weight,
lost weight, gained it back, lost it again, gained . . . . I have been on every diet imaginable –
Cleveland Clinic, Grapefruit, Scarsdale, Cabbage Soup, Adkins, Non-Adkins
Low-Carb, Mediterranean, Vegan. I have
done so many trendy exercises – Jane Fonda workouts, step aerobics, pilates,
yoga, spin classes, personal training, and good ole’ walking and biking. I know that losing weight is all about eating
less and moving more -- not really a hard equation to understand. To put it into practice is another
story. I’m an emotional eater and a
stress eater and the last few years of my life have been pretty stressful, so
my weight has gone up and down (although mostly up).
What’s
weird is that no matter what shape I’ve been in, it’s never good enough for
me. If I am thin, I always think I
should be thinner. If I’m fat, I can’t
believe I thought I was fat before. And
then there are my arms. The arm gene passed down through the women in my family
is meant for sumo wrestlers. And garment
makers don’t seem to understand these arms.
There have been times, when trying on clothes in a dressing room, that
I’ve gotten stuck IN THE ARMS and can’t get out. Even when I’ve been thin, I have taken
scissors to seams to let out the ARMS of a dress and not anything else. Tank tops – no way, unless it’s under another
shirt. Sundresses – only with a sweater
on top. As a teacher, one of the
reasons, but not the only, that I loved getting air conditioning finally was
that I didn’t have to wear short sleeves at work. I can wear long sleeves every day and feel
safe. So, with this vision of myself,
the very idea of selecting a bathing suit is a horror. (Brownies anyone?)
However, three years ago, my life changed when my very first
mammogram showed that I had breast cancer.
It was a total surprise and I went through the gauntlet of surgeries,
chemo and radiation. As scary as cancer
can be, it provides some positives as well.
You gain a different perspective on your life. I really did become more thankful for what
other people did for me, became kinder and more aware of others’ needs and
realized that as bad as life could be, there really are things that could be
worse.
One of the other things that happens when you have breast
cancer is you get a bit less modest. You
get used to all sorts of people looking, prodding and examining you in various
states of undress, including . . . your arms.
So has this helped me with my body image? Maybe so.
Ever since I was diagnosed, I stopped worrying about my weight, thinking
there were too many other things to think about. But then, this spring, something clicked in
my brain. I decided that once again, I
was going to try to get in shape – but it was more than just losing weight – it
was about being healthy and being strong.
Since spring, I have lost a considerable amount of weight, but it was
not just a physical change, it was a mental change. I was starting to shed my previous life –
shedding the negativity, shedding the stress and anxiety and finally, shedding
the physical product of that stress and anxiety – the weight. Several people have asked me how I lost all
that weight. I sheepishly answer, “I eat
less and exercise more. . . .” (Which is the
only combination of activities that causes weight loss). But I do make a concerted effort every day to
eat less and every day to exercise more. If there was any actual magic to it, it was
the letting go of my previous life and mindset.
But back to this past spring, when bathing suit season
loomed. I have a colleague friend who
has a pool. She often invites people to
come over. I started to think, could I
do it? Could I deal with bathing suit
shopping? While breast cancer made me a
little less modest to be poked and prodded, it also made me a little, um --
lopsided. I have pretty much come to
terms with my lopsidedness because I get special bras to even things out. However, I hadn’t yet dealt with a post-cancer
bathing suit – this was a whole different concept.
However, now it was new
me, transformed/transforming me. So, on
the second invitation to the pool, I decided that I’d better go shopping. Stepping into the store, I braced
myself. In front of me was every size
and shape imaginable, most of which I would not wear. But I started looking and trying on different
things. On. Off.
On again. Off again. After about an hour, I had narrowed my
choices down to two suits – two tankinis with shorts. One looked better overall and one was better at
evening out my lopsidedness. And as I
struggled to make the final decision, I had one of those moments of
clarity. I realized that I really didn’t
care if the bathing suit covered up my flaws or showed my sumo arms. I really didn’t think my friends from work
would care if my chest was a little lop-sided.
So why should I? I quickly bought
both suits and the next day, went to my friend’s pool, a little more confident,
a little less self-concious and ready to be in the sun.
Postscript: I have
lost more than 50 pounds, many inches and several sizes. Interestingly enough, the only place on my
body where I haven’t lost any inches – my arms!!!! But, at least they are a lot
more muscular – I may end up being a sumo wrestler yet! ;)