I Should Have Gone Swimming With Her

For the majority of my life, I've felt like a prisoner in my own body. 

Sure, I've taken amazing strides in getting past the bulimia, and learning to eat pizza again. 

I can be at home, by myself, with a plate full of cookies in the kitchen, and not  be tempted to eat the entire plate. 

I can hold a job, and even get through a break up, without a carton full of ice cream. 

Yet despite how far I've come, I still have a long way to go. 

Over Christmas break, my family decided to go to a inside water park in Northern Michigan. 

Now I've lived long enough to know that water parks mean bathing suits, and bathing suits mean a lot of skin, and a little clothing. 

One of the hardest things for me to do is wear a bathing suit, no matter if it's in front of family, or strangers. 

And if at this point you would tell me that they aren't looking at me, I would agree with you. But just being in a position where someone could see my pale body makes me shiver.

Truthfully, I didn't feel the best that day, so I decided to opt out of the water park, and watch from the sidelines. 

I was fine with my decision until my 5 year old niece asked me if I was going to get in the water. 

"No, Brooklyn, I don't feel well. Next time."

Inside, my heart was breaking because one of the things I've always strived to be was a good aunt. 

And that day, I had failed. 

To many, it's just a bathing suit. 

To me, it's jumping off a cliff, swimming with sharks, cracking on a note, walking into a crowded room completely naked, sky diving without a parachute, kind of feeling. 

I watched as my nieces went down the giant water slide, and lounged around the lazy river 

I watched my nieces smiling, and laughing. 

I watched everything from a distance. 

I thought to myself, "Amy, what happened to you?"

Before any sort of body image concerns concerned me, I was a bubbly, excited, all in kind of girl. 

I would have been the first on the slide, and the last one out. 

Leaving the water park that day reminded me that body image still has its strong hands around me.
While I am free in so many ways, I am still not totally free.

I missed the chance to be an aunt to my two little nieces. I missed the chance to create memories with my family... all because I was too afraid to wear a bikini in the winter. 

I started thinking back to everything I've missed because of body image issues…

Not wanting to go to the lake one summer because my body wasn't, "bikini ready."

Not going to the pool with my friends because I felt fat. 

Not singing on stage because I didn't like how I looked.

Sabotaging a relationship with a great guy because he gets a little too close, and I feel a little too exposed.   

And probably many more. 

I can't turn back time, and change my decision that day. 

And even I could, it still would be a struggle to get in the water. 

But, I would. 

In fact, Brooklyn wouldn't even have to ask me if I was going swimming, because I would already be in. 

Sometimes, we are too late to change anything once we receive a wake up call. 

We don't have another chance to change things.

But sometimes we do. 

Maybe you have body image issues like me, or maybe you have another insecurity that keeps you prisoner.

Maybe you have past regrets like I do. 

Maybe you have days, and times when insecurity won. 

And maybe this is your wake-up call. 

At 32 going on 33, I am working harder than ever to find the little girl in me. 

The one who loved to laugh uncontrollably. 

The one who loved to dream, and act out, "The Wizard of Oz."

The one who loved to swim, and didn't think twice about a bathing suit. 

The one who loved spaghetti, and bread. 

The one who could have fun. 

The one who loved life.  

Because that is who the world needs me to be. 

That is who my nieces need me to be.