Eff Your Beauty Standards: Wearing a Bathing Suit

I know I almost never post photos. Why? Mostly because I'm lazy, although a little because I want my writing to speak for itself.

I'm posting one here, although not the one I initially planned to. The initial picture was a full body photo of me in a bikini - looking and feeling pretty good. I was at a private pool with just Rebecca, who has of course - stop reading if you pretend gay people have no genitalia and don't have sex - seen more.

I've never let anyone, not even Rebecca, photograph me in a bikini before. There are a few photos around of me in a tankini that covers my midsection. The truth is that part of me has always felt like I didn't look good enough to wear a bikini, even though I'm a perfectly healthy weight and more or less have a normal, idealish body type (okay, I'd have to tone up before working as a model, but I look good for someone who doesn't make a living off my looks). The other part of me was trained, for many years, to believe that despite how non-skinny I was, or how small my breasts are, or how fair my skin is, or whatever other attributes don't fit current beauty standards, wearing a bikini or sharing pictures of me in one was a horrible temptation to the men around me, who would be incapable of keeping themselves from lusting after my basically naked body. In fact, the only reason to wear a bikini was for this kind of attention.

That isn't why I'm wearing this swimsuit. How could it be, when there was no one around? No, there's a completely different explanation. I was soaking up the fresh air and sunshine (don't worry; I was liberally doused head to toe in spray sunscreen, because I'm a sunscreen goddess). After months of winter and wearing heavy clothes, layers, restricting garments, it felt amazing to feel nature on my skin without pain or cold.

And I've been reading on modesty, fatphobia, disordered eating, and beauty standards. I've even talked to male friends, who have assured me that they find a range of body types attractive, aren't as judgmental as women think, and are capable of self control. Although this really isn't about them - I am not for them - these are points worth mentioning. 

So then why not the whole body picture? Because I believe that along with #effyourbeautystandards should come #humannotobject and this picture conveys how joyful I felt. This one leaves no room, at least in my eyes, for you to tell me that I look good, or sexy, or have jiggly thighs and need to squat, or that I should really try a new shave lotion. I don't, in this picture, ask for your evaluation of my body. Mine. My body in this picture is doing what I needed it to, which in this case was rest and pick up vitamin D. I don't want to cause friends to stumble if they've been socialized to react differently to pictures of women in bikinis. That's definitely not the goal of Committinginthemitten or this post. But after the reaction to my post on my philosophy of food, I think many of my sisters in Christ, or in humanity, and probably some brothers too, need to hear this - and see it.

So here it is: your body is yours, and if it does what you want it to, if it loves you and allows you to love, and you have a joyful existence, then it's how it's meant to be. And it's okay to share that.

MI Love/Hate: Winter

I have been a very bad blogger lately. Or really, I just haven't. I apologize to any readers who might have been saddened by my lack of posts. I've been working pretty crazy hours trying to get all of my students ready for their upcoming ACT (plus a couple preparing for the GRE). The last several days have been prioritizing/survival mode.

But I have a moment now, and I want to share with you something that probably won't surprise most of the Michiganders.

I have a love/hate relationship with winter. As someone with a pretty significant case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (where shorter days and lack of sunlight cause mood changes), fall and winter are seasons I dread. However, this year I'm taking a vitamin D supplement, and it has really helped with that. Feeling better in that area has allowed me to reflect on my other feelings about winter.

I love falling snow - if I don't have to be out in it, or even if I'm not going very far in the car. I love the fat, lazy snowflakes, and even the clustered, chunky ones that seems to coat the air with their heaviness. I even love the snow showers and dustings - lately I've found a certain amount of pleasure in my gut feelings about what type of snow we'll have and how much. I find it zen to stare off into them and appreciate how they will cover the greyness and muck in a blanket of soft purity, at least for a few hours. I like the cooler nights where I can sleep with a mountain of blankets and a cat behind my knees without overheating. Sometimes I even like the days that are cool or cold but sunny; something about the juxtaposition pleases me.

And then there are days. I hate driving in snow. Michiganders should know better how to manage slippery roads. They just don't, and Detroit drivers aren't great to begin with (although many of you will say that Boston or DC is worse, those places have reasonable mass transit that offers an alternative, and as such are disqualified). I hate the muck that comes when we haven't had new snow to cover it, and the ice that causes so many of us to slip awkwardly. I hate the days when the wind sears or the temperatures are so low that no matter how well I dress for the weather, the air burns my nose, throat, and lungs. I hate the gloominess, being stuck inside so much, and worrying that my checks will be reduced because of snow cancellations.

In the end, I am mostly thankful for winter. It reminds me that I have strength, and it gives me something to look forward to. In a month or so, my spring bulbs will (hopefully) start to poke their ways out of my patio pots, the sun will come out more often, and the air will freshen up. It will be April before I know it, a time to scheme to visit the Horticultural Gardens at MSU, the Detroit Zoo, even just the tiny park up the street from my apartment. Soon, and very soon, it will be time for asparagus and spring greens, followed by strawberries and then a whole host of other fruits and vegetables. And maybe even an announcement that my marriage does count, after all, in the state my heart belongs to.