Never Looked Good

Personally, I’ve never looked great in a swimsuit. Not once at any stage of my life. I'm kinda boy-shaped.

I don’t look good naked either. Things aren’t positioned or proportioned in the way they’re supposed to be; skin tone is hit or miss; hair removal is a moving target. 

Have I looked in good in my clothes? Yes. Definitely.

In MY clothes. 

I don’t look good in ALL clothes. In fact, I can say that I don’t look good in MOST clothes. 

Jeans. Good example. My waist is not narrow and I’m tall. Jeans are built for short gals with cute curves.

Most jeans don’t fit me very well.

Sometimes I get lucky. But I mean... Don’t we all? Isn’t that how jeans shopping works for literally every woman? You try on 100 pairs and 1 works?

I just need you to know that there is not a female body out there that looks good in all jeans. This is science.  

Rompers: no. 

Bodycon dresses: no.

Leggings: yes. 

Fit and flare dresses: yes. 

Sleeveless things? Meh. My arms are just average. 

Short skirts? Absolutely. I was gifted good legs, genetically. Truly, I could do nothing at all and still have good legs. Women covet my legs. No really. Some women would give anything to have my legs. And I'd trade my legs for their nipped in waist. "Oh no; I'm so pear-shaped!" she might blush! Yes, but I'm a banana. My fruit shape is grosser than your fruit shape. And on and on we could go. It's so insane.

I can wear a V neck because my neck is nice. 

A tee shirt looks weird because my trunk is boxy, not curvy. 

I bet your list is different than mine.

You know? Some clothes look awesome on me and some do not.  

Which I think is a universal truth for all women.

I share this because the need to look good naked, to feel confident in a swimsuit, or to feel beautiful in clothing is something I have never been able to consistently achieve at any stage of my life. Not even in the depth of a modelling contract and an eating disorder. Not even through my super-ripped-exercise-addicted-fitness-chick phase. Not even now, as a mellow and healthy midlife woman out of the “mating dance” years of her life (and therefore having much less reason to preen for anyone <- By this I mean I wear clothes that I like, and I could not care less if men like them). 

But what woman out there has EVER spent any consistent time in their life feeling confidently sexy in a swimsuit, naked, or in their clothes? 

Wait. I know what you’re thinking…

Here is what virtually every woman says when they are confronted with this thought experiment: 

(and what probably NO MAN has ever said about HIS body, BTW... )

“Oh, when I was younger I THOUGHT I looked so bad. But now I’d give anything to look like that! I didn’t know how hot I was back then!”

Exactly. 

Exactly. 

You WERE hot, But you didn’t think you were. 

Maybe you ARE hot right now, but you don’t think you are.

Do you see?

Or — and hear me out — maybe it doesn’t fkn matter at all how hot we are. 

Partly because it truly doesn’t matter, and partly because we’ll never think we’re hot enough anyway, ever, so what's the point?

We have precedent.

Personally, I already accept that my body is never going to “catch up” to what it’s supposed to look like, because I’ve been “lagging" jussssst a little behind since forever.

I doubt I’ll miraculously catch up now. Been trying my whole life! 

MY WHOLE LIFE. 

I don’t know. 

I don’t know what we think our bodies are supposed to look like. 

Or who even owns these “perfect” bodies that we’re striving for. 

Or how they got those perfect bodies. 

Or whether what they did to achieve a perfect body was a result of luck or genetics or money or hard work or a combination of all of these things — a combination that you’d have a one in a trillion shot of replicating. 

Okay Erin… it’s time for a call to action. Wrap this up in some way that will give women a solid “next step” so they can start changing how they consider and respect their CURRENT bodies, rather than some fantasy body that they’ve never had… 

I can’t. 

I will continue to be mystified by this. 

But, I think to name it starts to tame it. 

It brings it to light. 

Allows us to see the flaws in this endless pursuit.

Living in our bodies could be so much easier if we ended the chase.