Originally posted this on Instagram, but felt it calling me to post here.
Was out last night, wandering the Boulder streets for dinner.
It was Boulder Creek Fest so people were fluttering about – groups of women in their summer gear. 88 degrees at 7:30pm. Doesn’t get much better than that.
I thought about how it’s turning into that part of the year where heat dictates how little or much clothing we wear. And how difficult that can be to transition out of the eating disorder safety of winter.
A reminder on this social media-bikini-posting holiday weekend that when you’re scrolling your feeds feelin’ like shit:
Almost every single one of us – in different forms and fashions – filters, preps, angles, and frets over what we’re posting. Likely puts on make up before a pic is taken (as I was doing when I thought of this post). Likely exclaims “hell no, redo,” to their exasperated partner who’s just tryna take a pic.
That so many of us are sucking in, feeling guilty, sneaking chips when others aren’t looking (because we somehow have made ourselves believe that while others can eat it, we can’t)
Drinking too much wine or Titos vodka because we don’t want to eat in a swimsuit.
Are looking in bathroom mirrors halfway through a lake day, and cringing.
Listening to other women hate themselves, and wondering “Wow, what must she think about me?”
And mostly, wishing something on us was different than it is.
We are all victims of this culture. There is not a woman in a bikini pic on your feed right now that hasn’t been tortured, plagued, poked, bruised, insulted, or manipulated into feeling shit about their body.
The truth is that at the end of the day no one is spending all that much time judging your body – cause bloody hell, they’re too wrapped up judging their own.
We are all equally as self-possessed by diet culture and the ever vague definition of “beauty” in this culture.
We want to be it – want to be in it – like it’s the cool kid table that we’re circling with our lunch plate to sit at.
Going camping this weekend – and as I pack up this morning, I smile.
Because I am the type of girl who puts make up on before a hike. Mascara before a tent trip.
That is who I am, and what I do.
It’s my flexible okay; my flexible recovery – and it’s evolving the way it will. Be gentle on people this weekend – be gentle on you – and as someone commented “remember what we’re actually celebrating.”