One sunny day in the SacramentoValley I was swimming at a friend's house. I can't recall who all was there or many details of the day. I don't remember the season, I don't actually even remember swimming, but I do remember sitting on a pool lounger with a towel wrapped around my waist.
One of my friends that was there that day came up to me and sat next to me on the lounger. He looked at me and asked a simple, but direct question.
"Are you embarrassed of your legs?"
I remember being taken aback for a moment, thinking what kind of question is that? Finding no good answer to the question except a truthful one, my answer was as simple as the question.
"yes"
There were no follow-on questions or airy pep talks. He simply accepted my answer and moved on.
That small moment in time, the simple question, lingered longer than my 16 year old self expected it would. Over 20 years later I remember that moment and the lesson I learned in it.
I was embarrassed of the thickness of my thighs. Looking back I would love to trade my current thigh thickness for the 16 year old thigh thickness, I'm sure thats the case for many people. I didn't necessarily think of myself as fat, but I remember hating being in a swimsuit without shorts or a skirt as a cover for that region from my knees up.
My embarrassment of my body didn't keep me from swimming. Thankfully, it didn't bother me enough to keep me from participating in typical teen activities, but I would never just stroll around in a swimsuit. I always found a towel to cover up with.
Sitting on that lounger that day, wrapped in a towel on a day that was too warm to be bundled, and facing the most honest question I can recall some guy asking me, I realized that my attempt to hide my imperfections was actually making them more noticeable.
My attempt to hide my imperfections was drawing more attention to myself. Over the years have found this to be true with many types of imperfections in myself and in others. People are more understanding and honestly care less about my imperfections than they are tolerant of me trying to hide them.
One of my friends that was there that day came up to me and sat next to me on the lounger. He looked at me and asked a simple, but direct question.
"Are you embarrassed of your legs?"
I remember being taken aback for a moment, thinking what kind of question is that? Finding no good answer to the question except a truthful one, my answer was as simple as the question.
"yes"
There were no follow-on questions or airy pep talks. He simply accepted my answer and moved on.
That small moment in time, the simple question, lingered longer than my 16 year old self expected it would. Over 20 years later I remember that moment and the lesson I learned in it.
I was embarrassed of the thickness of my thighs. Looking back I would love to trade my current thigh thickness for the 16 year old thigh thickness, I'm sure thats the case for many people. I didn't necessarily think of myself as fat, but I remember hating being in a swimsuit without shorts or a skirt as a cover for that region from my knees up.
My embarrassment of my body didn't keep me from swimming. Thankfully, it didn't bother me enough to keep me from participating in typical teen activities, but I would never just stroll around in a swimsuit. I always found a towel to cover up with.
Sitting on that lounger that day, wrapped in a towel on a day that was too warm to be bundled, and facing the most honest question I can recall some guy asking me, I realized that my attempt to hide my imperfections was actually making them more noticeable.
My attempt to hide my imperfections was drawing more attention to myself. Over the years have found this to be true with many types of imperfections in myself and in others. People are more understanding and honestly care less about my imperfections than they are tolerant of me trying to hide them.
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