Yesterday, my boyfriend posted a picture of me walking towards him in a bikini.
All I saw in the picture was that the light hit my thighs in such a way that you could see...
Wait for it...
Wait for it...
I was pissed.
I went into my room.
Looked at the photo and totally missed that in the foreground was an incredible picture of my son looking so damn happy and impressed with his beach find.
I didn't see that...I just noticed that my thighs revealed what is a hint of fat beneath the skin.
Of course, what was kind of awesome about this whole little thing is that I am going to be speaking at a book launch on Sunday about how being photographed in my chonies has increased my ability to love myself and focus on more important things like taking care of my emotional and mental health and loving my son but here I was...about to break down in tears over a photo that showed me less than perfect.
What a bunch of bullshit.
So...I looked at the photo again and I 'liked' it.
Did I, for reals?
No...at least not the 4th and 5th time I checked it out but then I decided to look at my son.
I looked at his smile and I remembered the moment of when the picture was taken:
I had been strutting my stuff up and down that sliver of beach thinking to myself
I am, damn it.
And to let a beautiful moment shared between the two most precious fellas in my life to suddenly be overshadowed with the realization that 'oh, I have cellulite and my ass jiggles when I walk' is stupid.
So...here it is folks.
Here I am.
In a bikini.
Having an awesome time with my boys.