Bikini Bravado

I DID IT!

I wore the damn bikini.

I wore it two different days. I wore it on the beach and by the pool. I wore it in the water at the swim-up bar. I wore it without a cover-up as I strutted, well walked really, across the pool deck to my room.

And it was FUN.

But not at first. Let me set the scene.

I picked Tuesday as Bikini Day. I'd had two days to scout the bikini situation and I knew that there were bodies less bikini-perfect than mine that were completely comfortable letting it all hang out. I told Jim Monday night I was going to do it. He assured me it would be fine.

I woke up, put it on and then stood in front of the full-length mirror for approximately 20 minutes, trying to get the courage mustered to leave my room. "Are you sure this is going to be OK?" I asked Jim. "Are you SURE?" He reassured me there was nothing to worry about.

I broke into a cold sweat as we headed toward the beach, with the cover-up still on, mind you. Jim kept telling me to relax. And I held onto him for dear life, while I tried to explain how completely terrifying this was for me.

We got to the beach, found two chairs, spread out our towels, reached into the beach bag for the sunscreen and then ...

The cover-up had to come off. So, I peeled it off, as self-conscious as they come.

And ...

Nothing happened. No one laughed. No one gagged. No one even noticed.

The nearby volleyball game continued without disruption. The waiter came and asked us for our drink order. The sun shone, the wind blew and the birds flew overhead.

Weird, huh?

And the longer I stayed there, the more I WANTED someone to notice. I wanted someone to say, "Nice rack." Or at the very least, I wanted to catch someone sneaking a glimpse of my lady bits.

Weird again, huh?

So I got braver. Wore it to the pool the next day. Walked around the pool while eating an apple. (Eating while in a bikini?! Good Lord. That's such a bizarre concept I can't even explain it.) Got in the water. Climbed up the pool ladder to get out. And, again, nothing.

Jim finally asked me what the big deal was. I tried to explain how it used to feel to not want anyone to notice you at all, ever, for any reason. And how big a mental leap it is to be able to put your whole self on display. I'm not sure he gets it entirely. I'm not sure I do, to be honest.

But two days was all she wrote. Why? Because a woman I've known for 20 years, who worked with me at my part-time high school/college job, and who is now the loan officer at my bank showed up with her husband and two other couples from my hometown.

Six degrees of Kevin Bacon my ass. Half of you know her. That's one degree or two at best. And as promised in the Bikini Blunder post, no one THAT close will ever see me sporting the two-piece. I got braver. But not that brave.