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Comfortable In Your Own Skin

July 30, 2012

Once again, I find myself at the fitness center.  It’s water aerobics day.  I walk into the locker room, stash my gear into the locker & strip down to my faded Speedo one-piece suit..  And I notice that the spandex in my suit is starting to deteriorate, so this is probably the last time I’m wearing it.  It’s got that stretched-out ripple look.  Not a good look on me.  This suit was once, not so long ago, a vibrant splash of color.  Now it’s drab, faded pastels.

At that point, the shower water shuts off & a naked woman steps out with her red and yellow floral towel slung over her shoulder.

I try not to look, but it’s pretty hard not to notice that a naked person is in the room with me.  Even in the locker room.  So, this lady, who doesn‘t have an ounce of fat (or modesty) on her, towel dries her hair & pats herself dry.  I see this in my peripheral vision.  I try not to look..directly anyway.  This is no time for direct eye contact.  It might give the wrong impression.

She starts applying her make-up as I step into the restroom, and when I come out, she’s fixing her hair.  In her birthday suit.

Not to be outdone, I strut across the room, fat jiggling, in my faded stretched out suit & contrasting water shoes.  I stand before the mirror, finger-comb my hair back with confidence and put on my ever-so-stylish black Speedo swim cap. Then I finish my ‘look’ by pushing the cap up over my ears so I can actually hear.  It makes my ears stick out.  This is how real women look.

Now, I notice something seriously wrong with this babe. She’s not a teeny-bopper.  In fact, she;s probably near menopause. She has no cellulite.  No sagging skin, no tan lines (but a beautiful tan to go with her sun-bleached hair), no wrinkles.  No imperfections…not even a large mole.  Just firm & perky..everywhere.  Is this Eve brought back to life?  Eve, from the Bible?  God created only one perfect woman…Eve.  It says so in the Bible, and who am I to argue with the Bible.  And I’m pretty sure Eve’s been dead for a several millennia.

This gal is definitely NOT normal.  I know this.  I have looked in the mirror.  Naked.  I do not look like her;  she does not look like me.  She does not look like any of my classmates either.

I don’t think I want to look like her.  Seems like that body would take a lot of maintenance.  When would I read a book, watch TV, or eat potato chips and chocolate?  I’d have to spend all my time working out and worrying about my diet.  I fret about enough stuff anyway and I’m just not that into self deprivation, and to my way of thinking, self abuse.  No, I didn’t notice any tattoos, body piercings or self inflicted scars, but I still consider it abuse.  Who wants to spend all their time exercising & eating salad.  Where’s the fun in that?  How does she kick back and relax?  By running?  Swimming? Walking her dog?  Eating like a rabbit?

And  what’s her guilty pleasure?  You know we’ve all got at least one.  Mine’s coffee.  Being a recovering alcoholic, and former smoker, I turned to coffee.  Pure, unpolluted dark roast coffee.  No cream.  No sugar.  No decaf, latte’s, cappuccino, or iced coffee.  Just high-octane dark roast.  But only in the morning.  Otherwise it keeps me awake at night.

From the looks of her, I think celery is her favorite food.  She’s probably a celery connoisseur. Or perhaps she likes baby carrots with a side of romaine and a splash of lemon juice.

She doesn’t look anorexic or bulemic…no emaciation, good skin color & tone.  In fact, she looks extremely healthy.

And lastly, with perfect make-up and hair, she gets dressed.  By now, I think she’s just showing off.  Maybe her name’s Barbie instead of Eve, although she‘s probably a little short for that.  Perfectly proportioned, but short.

She definitely re-defines the phrase ‘comfortable in your own skin.’  I am too;  comfortable in my own skin, after all it’s soft, loose fitting and well-worn.  Like my favorite pajamas.  I have more than a few battle scars, but the doctors patched them up pretty well.  I’m comfortable in a much different way.  Most of the time, anyway.  Unless I perceive a well-meant comment as criticism.  Or when I fail (or think I fail).

I feel sorry for her.  My heart goes out to her.  Poor deformed creature.

She’s just not normal.

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From → The Pool

One Comment
  1. I hate to be naked all by myself let alone with someone else. I can’t imagine EVER being that bold!

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