I have never been one to strive for a bikini body. I’m very much from the school of thought that if you have a bikini and a body, you’ve got a bikini body as soon as you put the swimwear on. All of the rhetoric around dieting for summer so that you look your best has become outdated and passe, a mediocre and lazy attempt to target women through advertising and taking advantage of their insecurities. Every time a company tries to pull a new campaign out along these lines, society flocks to social media to call bullshit. I absolutely love it. I love that we’re living in a world where we’re calling out beauty standards for what they often are – edited, airbrushed, unattainable and just not real life.
But I’ve been thinking about bikinis and bodies a lot lately. As most millennials are (because Whatsapp has revolutionised our lives), I’m in a group chat with a couple of friends, girls I used to work with. Earlier this week one of them dropped the interesting fact that bikinis were in fact named after the atomic bomb test site Bikini Atoll because, like the atomic bomb, it was ‘small and devastating’. During my trip to Lanzarote in May, I spent quite a bit of time thinking about how my relationship with a bikini has changed a lot since I lost my boob in 2015. Weirdly, I think being in Sri Lanka and the Maldives with my uniboob and not a prosthetic in sight, made me more comfortable than I’d ever been in a bikini before. And a brief spell in Lanzarote with my folks recently reaffirmed that feeling.
I never anticipated that I’d be having liposuction this year, so that’s given me a whole different perspective on the bikini body too. To those of you who don’t know, I didn’t suddenly decide that I needed to invest in lipo to get super-fly thighs for the summer months, but my surgeon floated lipografting to me as an idea after I said I wasn’t sure if I could face the gruelling process of having a DIEP flap surgery. It’s a snazzy new technique which involves liposuctioning fat from other places on the body and then injecting it into the chest and gradually moulding it into a breast. I KNOW. INSANE RIGHT? Anyway, I’ve now had two rounds of this procedure and find myself moving slowly towards the world of having two boobs again. That’s a weird world. I’ve been this way for about 20 months now. Going back to wearing pretty bras and not worrying about whether I need to throw on a prosthetic is going to be…quite something I think.
I’m getting off topic. Despite the liposuction and occasionally feeling more comfortable in my own body than I used to, I’ve not been getting on well with my body recently. It’s not really all that new. I’ve talked before about my body confidence and about how cancer has impacted that. But the negative feelings have been more heightened than ever, probably as a result of the fashion disasters I’ve been having recently trying to find something to wear for a wedding. And it (combined with other things) has left me feeling pretty low. I’ve been cross that I have gained weight recently. Been frustrated that my legs are still bruised, still sore after surgery. I’ve had a lot of shitty conversations with myself about the size of my arms, about the fat on my belly, about the pains in my chest. I’ve been really shitty to myself. Really shitty. But one thing I’ve been working on is doing yoga pretty much every day. (I pushed myself too hard the other day & have been getting cramps in my chest as a result so there’s a thing to learn about balance too).
One particular day, the yoga mantra I was working on was “I love”. And while saying “I love myself” does NOT sit well with me, I did it anyways. And (unrelated to the mantra, but quite remarkably) for the first time in my life, I was able to do side plank. And hold it. That’s a pretty big deal for me. Not something I could do BC and certainly not something I expected I could do after cancer. During all this time I’ve been beating my body up, it’s been getting stronger. All this time I’ve been berating myself for being out of shape it’s been getting stronger. And I suppose what I’m trying to say is that my body let me down quite dramatically. But I let it down pretty regularly too. I let it down by not giving it the credit it deserves. I let it down by starving it of the things it needs and wants because of some crazy idea of perfection that has been perpetuated by the patriarchy and the media.
My body doesn’t deserve to be berated. It deserves to be celebrated. And so does yours. For whatever victories it has given you. So find a victory that your body has given you recently. Today. Yesterday. This month. Last. And celebrate it. Really celebrate it. We can’t keep negative thoughts at bay forever, but we can kick ’em in the goolies once in a while. Do that today. I’m celebrating my side plank in yoga. I’m celebrating my body, wobbly bits and all for swimming through the Durdle Door (BUCKET LIST – CHECK). I’m celebrating my body for getting me through cancer treatment and for healing from every. single. surgery I’ve had over the last two years.
And if you’re looking for a bikini body, stop looking. If you’ve been eyeing up that bikini on ASOS but haven’t bought it because you’re worried about your size or your thighs, or your tummy. Stop procrastinating. Buy it. Put it on. Feel fabulous. Because you already are. The world knows it. You just need to tell yourself.