Juliana Moves

This was the first summer that I ever consistently wore a bikini. I wore it to the pool, I wore it to the beach, and I did my best to do so confidently and without hesitation. Sometimes, when deciding between my nice one piece and the bikini, I could feel myself begin a small spiral. 

“Who am I to think I can pull off a two piece?” I’d think to myself. And then I’d analyze every inch of my body in the mirror, from different angles and possible contortions of my body. Oddly, this scrutiny wasn’t normally complemented with intense negative self-talk. Sure, there would be the occasional bad body image day tossed into the mix, but for the most part my analysis almost seemed to have an objective quality to it. This body just wasn’t the right type for a bikini today.

And then I’d think: “Wait. Who created this objective?” And that, folks, was the money question. Mulling over that question is what turned my bikini-wearing into an act of resistance. 

Like many people (millennial women in particular come to mind), I had an image of the appropriate bikini-wearing person seared into my mind and, throughout my life, that just wasn’t me. I could go into detail about what that person is “supposed to” look like, but we all know it. I was content with my one piece swimsuits and, a few years back, even finally invested in a cute, stylish one rather than a lap swimming swimsuit. And don’t get me wrong! I love the security that a good one piece provides. Less sunburn and I don’t have to worry about something popping out when I cannonball or dive through a wave. 

That said, my bikini worries were always less about performance in the water and more about gazes on the shore.

And there are mean, judgemental gazes out there. I am not so naive to believe that everyone is aware of the crude societal expectations that harm us and then actively work against them. But I also know there are people who are looking for permission – albeit unneeded – to embrace their own bodies and don their own bikini. This summer I gave myself permission to do that and to hopefully send the subliminal message that anyone else could do it too.

The bikini may not be the hurdle for everyone. In my 29 years I’ve met people who don’t want to show their legs or their upper arms or some inch of skin in between. I remember buying yoga pants for the first time in high school and being terrified to wear them because I just didn’t have the legs for yoga pants. This summer, I tackled the bikini.

I’m not sure what made this summer different for me. Maybe I had more time to reflect on the patriarchy’s role in making us second guess ourselves and the way we show up in the world. I still had plenty of bad body image days, which I’ve learned to reframe as my eyes are not being kind today. This summer was hot and humid and I felt bloated and bleh many days. Truthfully, some days I couldn’t bring myself to wear the bikini. Other days I put it on and thought feast your eyes, everyone. I’m not sorry. Of course, there is absolutely no need to be sorry.

I’ve long since crawled my way out of the pit of self-degradation when it comes to my body. And I am very proud of that. If you clicked through the archives of this old blog, you’d probably come across posts where that was simply not the case. You may even stumble upon a few posts and get to witness my own growth happen over time. But at the end of the day, I’m human. I worry if it looks like I’ve gained weight in my face or how bloated I am that day. These are things I don’t notice or think twice about for strangers on the street or my loved ones. On me? They’re like proverbial hangnails, catching my attention every other moment.

And I carry on. I catch myself in a bad thought and remind myself of who I am, what I stand for, and what I love. I am a human working to actively reject the harmful body image narrative that society perpetuates every moment of every day. Sometimes I falter and am sad and other times I raise my imaginary middle finger as high as I can. It’s all a process. And I am a human who wears a fucking bikini.

Love,

JN