Everything you want, I’d rather get rid of.
My best friend invited me out to the pool on Wednesday for a day trip today. I said, “Okay, cool.”
I was thinking I’d wear a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and some flip flops, cuz I don’t do public pools. She knows this. I aim to sit in a lounge chair, soak up a little sun, and read.
She practically demanded that I wear a bathing suit. I haven’t revealed that much body since my mid-20s. I told her that I do not own a bathing suit. Oh, that did not stop her, she went out, purchased two, and now I have to try them on when I get out there. I immediately thought about my thighs, then my breasts. Then, my lighter than light legs (they barely get any sun. I am a habitual jeans-wearer), & I panicked. I had a bit of an anxiety attack over the possibility of showing skin, my skin, my curvy, thick, out of the ordinary for my height, skin.
I’m still anxious.
So much so, I’m not getting much sleep.
But, you know what?
My women gave me these hips, my top-heaviness, these thunder thighs, my ample buttocks, etc. I cannot fault them for bequeathed excellence.