My body helped me get through the pandemic. You don’t have to be bikini ready

If I try hard, I can barely remember the days when summer meant plenty: fresh peaches soaked in juice, lobster rolls in warm buttery buns, Mister Softee cones melting in the heat during long, lazy afternoons of New York City sunbathing. As I grew older, however, I learned to associate summer with the bodily austerity so common among teenage girls, pinching excess skin on my thighs and gnawing on ice while everyone else ate popsicles, hoping for one less serving of dessert or one more twist. on the elliptical will turn me into the thong-clad, bikini-clad beach babe everyone dreams of from June to August.

A combination of body-positive Instagrams, truly cute plus-size swimsuit options (thanks, Chromat), and Jennifer Weiner's beach reads ultimately taught me to release my deep-seated fear of fat beyond the vibrant joys of summer. But it's been a long and arduous process, and this year, as I sit through quarantine weight gain that has seen me go up several bikini sizes, the temptation to return to my days of teenage body insecurity sometimes feels overwhelming.

Intellectually, I know that my new body is as good as the old one. After all, it was the quarantine weight gain that made me eligible for the vaccine based on my BMI, and I'm not the only person who has undergone body changes or experienced an eating disorder mental health flare-up since the start of COVID. -19 pandemic. I'm committed enough to no-dieting in my own eating disorder recovery to resist the temptation to chew ice and obsessively exercise again, but that doesn't mean I'm crazy happy with the way I look 24/7. no matter how many provocative crop top photos I post on Instagram.

For years I've told myself over and over again that I deserve to enjoy summer no matter my size, but this year I'm acutely aware of what my body has given me beyond just my aesthetic appearance. Yes, I've gained weight this year, but I've also learned how to deliver heavy grocery bags to my neighbors, run a mile without stopping for the sheer joy of it, and finally, joyfully hug my newly vaccinated friends. Are these physical achievements any less worthy because I am not skinny for them? In a year so indelibly marked by loss, am I really going to wear a T-shirt over my swimsuit at the beach when I could be dipping every inch of my body into the cold water with my friends, exulting in the pure, invigorating joy of being together?

There has been so much discussion in recent months about who we will be when the pandemic finally ends. But I worry that not many of us give ourselves credit for who we have been during the pandemic and how we have performed during the largest public health crisis in modern history. Is there really a part of me that wishes I could stick to daily HIIT workouts and fasting that would have me lean and toned by June? Yes, but let's go. How realistic was that goal when I spent most of the past year not even sure when I would see my family in person again? In this light, the weight I've gained isn't an indictment of my willpower—it's evidence that I'm a survivor.

When I really start to worry about the approaching summer season and the anxiety it brings, I think about what is commonly referred to as the pool party episode of the Hulu series Shrill, in which the main character Annie (Aidy Bryant) attends a poolside Gathering specifically for plus-size women. Written by Samantha Irby and directed by Shaka King, the episode perfectly captures how Annie feels comfortable in her own skin as she surrounds herself with people of all shapes and sizes who are there specifically to have fun; It's clear how much Annie wants what they have, and it's truly beautiful to watch her try to find it.

I may never be comfortable looking at pictures of myself in a bikini, and that's okay; No one feels good about their body all the time, not even Sports Illustrated cover models. What I want for myself and everyone else in non-conforming physicality is the freedom to mark our presence in this world and the wisdom to understand how hard our bodies work every day to keep us alive. Sometimes I honor that hard-working body with a kale smoothie and a long run; other days I celebrate with an equally long nap and a trip to Fort Greene Park for one of the Mr. Sophie cones of my youth. The ice cream has the same chalky sweet taste as when I was a kid, and I feel good when I eat it in the sun, and that's enough for now.

Source: vogue.com

See also “Pattern - ready-made patterns”: How to cope with anxiety during a pandemic?