I was born this way

I grew up in a pretty strict home, this included clothes.  Part of the reason was because my Momma grew up in a Holiness (super conservative Christian denomenation) home.  More extreme Holiness churches don't allow women to: wear shorts (even long ones), cut their hair, wear make up, or have a voice in church; my mother didn't go to quite that conservative of a church, but still very legalistic.

Growing up, I had to go through hell to get clothes.  There was a whole process of purchasing clothes that included: bending over to see if you could see my 'butt' (it really was just my back, but my mom called it 'butt'), making sure the clothes didn't show my figure, pulling my pants up to my bellybutton (which made me look like a freak because my legs are a majority of my body), not wearing anything that would suggest I was homosexual (whatever that means), not wearing anything that made me look pagan (yea, I'm being serious), not wearing anything that would suggest I was a 'hootchie mama' or cheap (certain color combinations, no skin showing, etc), and the list goes on.  Instead of simply instilling modesty values in me, it inadvertantly told me that my body was something to hide because it wasn't beautiful.  Because I am fat, because I am disproportionate, because I am curvier than the average woman, because whatever.  I was never told that the body, my body, was a thing of beauty and that, while I shouldn't just expose it, I shouldn't be ashamed of any inch of it.  Every cellulite, every freckle, every curve was purposefully placed there by God and is, therefore, beautiful.  I didn't get that message, and it's taken 23 years for me to face that reality.

I have long been aware that I do not fit the mold of beauty in the US, but that left me feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.  This is my skin, my body, I no longer choose to feel trapped, stuck, in it.  Yesterday I purchased my first bathing suites all by myself, no parents supervising, no youth camp dress code.  It was oddly vindicating.  Trying on the suites was a cathartic process that I didn't even know I needed.  In the fitting room, I had to look at myself from every angle to make sure I was all tucked in; but, beyond that, I had to decided that I was gonna be proud of by body, every ounce, even the parts I'd like to change.  I spent quite a lot of time in there trying on, inspecting, and I finally decided I liked what I saw.  That's never happened to me with so little clothing on.

The thing with bathing suites, especially bikinis, is that there's no hiding.  You can say that it's just chunky fabric or that the hem is wrong...nope that is simply your stomach, that's really your legs.

I'd be lying if I said I reached this level of comfort all by myself.  A couple of weekends ago, one of my best friends came to visit me for the day.  We were shopping a little and she suggested I try on a pair of shorts that I would never have considered myself.  When I showed them to her I expressed how uncomfortable I felt with my legs (I mean, I've got a lot of leg), she said that I shouldn't feel uncomfortable because my legs looked good in the shorts.  What she doesn't know is that I went back and bought a pair of those shorts and another the same length the week after.  The shorts just barely meet the "fingertip rule" and she's right, I do look good in them.  I can't tell you the last time I had and wore shorts that didn't come all the way down to my knees!

I'm not knocking modesty, but I am knocking it to hide your insecurities.  I want to be modest because I want to honor my body and those around me (especially the fellas), not because I think I am not made beautifully.

God made us each beautiful, lets act like it.

Comments

  1. Wow. Loved every word, Colea. Thanks so much for sharing.

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