Let’s start this post by acknowledging I am not always right. As a human, I am always learning new things: new ways of life, new perspectives, different opinions. I respect all of it. However, one of the things I truly cannot stand for is making another human feel awful about themselves, humiliating them on a public level.
Now that we have established that, HELLO! My name is Julia, and I like to put effort into my appearance daily. Call it a “Leo Girl” thing, a “pride” thing… however you interpret it, there has never been a time in my life where I have not put some amount of thought into what I’m wearing. If it didn’t make me feel good, it was not being worn out of the house. Ask my mother, she has a fun story or three. Whether it’s pajamas at home, running to the gas station, hitting the beach, a Target adventure, or a night out on the town, that outfit is cute and it feels good to wear it.
A couple of weeks ago, with my youngest in daycare, my oldest and I took advantage of our time together to hit a well-known water park with our friends. Now granted, I do have some “lesser coverage” bikinis (it is a beach town), but considering we were going to a place with young children, I knew it would be best to put on a one-piece swimsuit that I’ve worn there multiple times. A sun hat, shorts, and a packed pool bag were picked to tie the whole outfit together — LET’S GO! My son and I were so stoked it was the two of us, with that childhood feeling of invincible freedom that only summer can bring. It was a beautiful, hot summer day, the water was still cold, and everyone was enjoying themselves to the fullest… until a couple of teenage lifeguards approached me and my friend an hour after our arrival.
“Ma’am, we’ve had a couple of complaints about your swimsuit.”
EMBARRASSING. How embarrassing it was to be in trouble with two girls half my age. Embarrassing to be told I needed to cover up or leave. Embarrassing that I had to tell my son I couldn’t swim with him anymore. Because in that park somewhere, was someone who was embarrassed by a body that wasn’t theirs. I laughed it off at first and sat down for the rest of the time we were there. The lifeguards were doing their job. But afterward, the anxiety crept in. “Was my body that offensive?” “Was the suit really inappropriate?” “Are my own kids embarrassed of me?” I spiraled, I became angry, and I cried very hard later that afternoon.
Perhaps the desire to ensure my outfit was perfect can be traced back to days when the girls I grew up with would make fun of my weight (I was a little chubby; they were a little rude). Maybe it goes back to my high school years when I wanted to stand out from the cheerleading crew (MySpace did all of us dirty). Definitely in college (when I fluctuated weight like a dang roller coaster), I realized the highlight of my day was when I was told the highest compliment in Girl World: “Where did you get that?” No matter how I felt about my body underneath the clothes, I could still get comments on my style.
Now, let’s enter motherhood into the equation. I was extremely fortunate to have birthed two beautiful, healthy baby boys with no complications. I love them and cherish the effort my body went through to bring them earth side. Also, cue the 40 pounds that were gained with each pregnancy that did NOT come off with breastfeeding (the baby books definitely did me dirty on that one). Now that issue couldn’t be ignored. The clothes I had didn’t fit, and the clothes I wanted brought out terrible thoughts in my anxiety-riddled mind. These thoughts were not okay with me, and therefore, work had to be done.
OH BOY, did I put in the work. We’re currently living in a society where style and body confidence are very much related: look great, feel great! After almost 10 years of weight lifting, HIIT training, Pilates, walking, lifestyle, and diet changes, I am extremely happy with what I’ve achieved (most days). There are still bad days mind you, where I hate everything in the closet and nothing fits well, and my anxiety starts to spiral. But those moments pass, I bring myself back to earth, find a good basic staple, tell myself that I am freakin’ cute, and move on.
This day, was not a good day. We all know the water park out at the Beaches. Yes, it’s a place for kids and families that has a dress code for a reason. I spiraled on this thought for a long time. But who here has some story of witnessing some disastrously awful “bathing suit coverups” that were not cover-ups at all? Do we think at any point they were asked to “cover up or leave”? Most likely no, because it happens over and over again. Most people move on because it’s not their business — living in a beach town, we are all aware that everybody has a body. But on this day, in 2024, I felt the wrath of someone who took offense to a woman, A MOTHER, who took pride in her body. It’s like moms can’t win. They get body-shamed for letting their “mom bods” hang out, and they get shamed when they’re showing too much.
READ: Beat the Heat: Splash Pads, Pools & Water Parks In & Around Jacksonville
I’ll never know who it was (and frankly I don’t care to). But it is a very odd feeling to be essentially told to put away the one consistent thing I’ve ever had. That stranger will never know the journey it’s been through. The bullying I endured as a child, the abuse that it survived by an evil college ex, the never-ending social media presence of typically normal, BEAUTIFUL women being compared to Hollywood celebrities made of diet pills and plastic. They also will never know the sweat, the labor of births, the work of the self-love it’s gone through. I’m still going to wear that bathing suit (I did wear it three days after the water park). There will still be pride in my outfits, my body, and the journey I’ve been on allowing me to reach this point in life.
My husband and I are raising our sons to respect women’s bodies and their choices. And I sincerely respect everyone’s choices to wear what THEY feel comfortable in, in THEIR body. It is your life, and you deserve to feel incredible in your skin. To the person who complained about me, I am sorry you were never taught that. I am sorry that you felt like you earned the right to comment on a stranger’s body, regardless of what they’re wearing. After all, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
