Never in my life have I noticed so many bikinis at the beach. I’ve also failed to notice so many fit and healthy girls who wear them. What I have definitely and repeatedly noticed? How I look in my lumpy bumpy clumpy frumpy bathing suit.
There once was a time in my life where the image of toned and tan girls strutting around in their itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikinis would elicit an outward grimace and an inner sigh of defeat. But, this past weekend, while enjoying the Ocean City beach, I was struck by a different perspective on a familiar emotion.
However, there was no, “Look at that body, she must not eat a thing! Someone get her some chocolate STAT!”
No, “Yeah, her abs look great, but look at those highlights, gag!”
No, “Why couldn’t I be born looking that way?!?”
Instead, my green monster of jealousy took a big ol’ bite of humble pie and dreamily declared:
“Wow, she must have worked really hard to look like that.”
“I bet if I could really get a handle on my health, I could look and feel the same.”
“Someone should compliment her, but not me, because I don’t know her and that’d be creepy…”
Even though I was justifiably jealous over how fit other women were looking in their bikinis, I’m proud of myself for learning that not everything comes easily to everyone. If I want to improve on my already gorgeous physique, it’s going to take hard work instead of heated words.
As long as this new found form of jealousy encourages me to focus on improving myself instead of projecting negatively onto others, I don’t see how I can lose with so much bikini body inspiration on my side.