Taking the plunge: a mission to embrace dreaded bathing suit season

What would I rather do than wear a bathing suit in public?  

I would rather have day-long dental surgery without anesthetic.

I would rather have a pap-smear from a swarthy looking male medical student on day 1 of his residency.

I would rather clean up stomach-flu from an airport washroom.

I think you get the point.  I would rather do anything than expose my white, pasty, thrice-pregnant, veiny, Mom-bod in public, whilst wearing what amounts to a spandex bra and undies.  Ewww.  I just threw-up in my mouth thinking about it.  There's nothing worse for many of us, than bathing suit season.  Thank god I don't live in a tropical country.  In fact, one quick search on Ancestry.com reveals that I descend from a long-line of insufferable female prudes who migrated further and further north over the centuries in search colder climes where head-to-toe apparel was required for at least 10 months of the year.  Don't even get me started on shorts!  Anyway, I digress...

My swimsuit phobias began somewhere around age 10 when a girl begins to realize that soon she will become a woman.  Insecurities and self-awareness burst on the scene faster than Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch doing back-flips in a music video. I had a new above-ground pool with a strategically tiered deck that gave the illusion of an in-ground pool, yet still 6 feet above ground so all surrounding neighbours could see. It was my summer playground.  I also had a white (emphasis on the white) Tweety Bird bathing suit, one-piece, full coverage...or so it seemed when the fabric was dry...  I think you know where this story ends and it's pretty transparent (pun fully intended).  Lesson: Never buy, wear or support any company that manufactures white bathing suits...cruel, sick, pervs.

"Yo - that Tweety Bird suit is whack girl!"

It took a full 8-years for me to muster up the courage to wear a bathing suit in front of others and this time it was when a bunch of friends went up to spend the weekend at my, then boyfriend's, cottage.  Surely, I would have to go into the water at some point.  Unlike today's trampy teens who cheerfully flaunt about in two bandaids and a piece of neon dental-floss, two-piece bathing suits were on the fringe for us suburban girls in those days.  On the one hand, I wanted to fit in and look cool, on the other hand, I wanted to hide behind a boathouse tarp for 48 hours and hope that nobody noticed I was missing.  In the end, I went into a fancy swimwear shop and spent a full pay-cheque from my part-time gig at Sears on a designer bikini that featured special hyper-colour fabric (remember that stupid technology? Where the hot or cold spots on your body changed the colour of the fabric?).  Let's just say, that I'll never forget the moment I dropped my towel, dove in, then emerged onto the dock to a chorus of, "Hey - your butt crack is green but the rest of your bathing suit is blue!!!!"

When is this style coming back?  Very classy, great coverage, very hip, no?  

As an adult, and now a mother, I ended up having to bite the bullet a few years back when we surprised our kids with a 1-night stay at Great Wolf Lodge- an indoor water-park jammed full of bathing bodies.  A place where you spend countless hours lined up on wet and soggy wooden staircases climbing your way, step-by-squishy-step to the top of water slides, all the while staring at some strangers water-logged bum as you ascend.  At first I said that I would watch in full dress, down from below, but once there it become apparent that there was literally no safe refuge from the sloshing buckets of water routinely dumped on the masses from above.  Reluctantly, I put on my trusty tankini - fashions 2-piece swimwear solution for prudes who pretend to be fun like bikini girls, but without actually showing any skin.  This is the suit that my husband glumly describes as, something his mother would wear.   I doned the suit because,  who do I know at Great Wolf Lodge?  These are strangers!  They don't know me!!  I can be anonymously self-conscious, water-logged and pale without worry!  As I waltzed into the frenzied water-park, chlorine burning my eyes, granny-tankini not quite covering my mushy mid-section, 3 kids in tow, it happened - the voice was clear and distinct and shattered my anonymity to the core: "Kasie?  Kasie Savage?  Is that you?".  Oh god.  Not a relative.  Not a friend.  A COWORKER!  A flippin' MALE COWORKER!  Childless, spouseless, dry and full-clothed.  He leaned in for the friendly "what are the odds I see you?" hug.  My humid tankini pressed against a cotton polo shirt and Dockers.  Shoot me.  When we ran into each other at work, I defensively tried to defuse the awkwardness - "haha....can you believe it....haha....you saw me in basically my underwear....haha...and here we are....and I'm clothed....haha....sob..."

Last Fall our family took a vote on getting a backyard pool - there were 4 yays and 1 nay (yup- that nay was me!).  Fast forward to now and the new pool is open and everyone's been in, splashing about, living it up, except me.  There's been talk in the neighbourhood of pool parties, backyard fun and more.  I'm now 38 and I'm a realist.  Despite the very best advances in cosmetic surgery, I'm pretty confident that I'm not going to grace the cover of a swimsuit magazine any time soon so I'm going to have to suck it up, grow some confidence and rock the hell out of a bathing suit this summer.  I overheard two ladies in their sixties at the gym talking to each other about their daughters in their thirties.  One woman said, "I told my daughter - you have no idea how great you look until you look back 30 years later...young women need more confidence!".  I know she's right.  So stay tuned, because this summer I'm going to take the plunge.  I'm going to force myself to repeatedly wear a bathing suit until it no longer feels weird - kind of like the way you have to make those angry goat noises during certain yoga poses...after a while it just seems normal!

Who's with me?  Who's going to make 2016 the summer of dare-to-bare-in-swimwear?  I am going to give a big wet soggy middle-finger to self-consciousness and dive right in this year...likely in a black one-piece with removable bathing skort...baby steps....