I have a big mirror in my bathroom. For the last 10 years I’ve been scrutinizing my body on a daily basis. First thing in the morning, before a shower, after a shower, before a date, after a haircut. Staring into the mirror one morning I thought about getting a new swimsuit. I was in my early 50’s at the time and was about to take a July trip to Egypt where I knew it would be very hot. A new suit might come in handy.
Twelve years earlier when my friend Linda, from way back in college, and I were backpacking in Grand Gulch, we took photos of ourselves in bikinis. We had a feeling that now at age 40, this might be the last time for exposing ourselves, wearing a two-piece bathing suit. So we lived it up, goofed around taking shots of ourselves with a backdrop of orange sandstone cliffs and cobalt blue skies. Chest out, hands on hips, one knee bent. No nudie shots. Back then someone at the pharmacy actually looked at the photos and censored such images. ???
So back to the bathroom mirror and a trip to exotic lands.
I drove off to a department store where they would hopefully have a large selection of bathing suits. It was just my luck they were having a end-of-the-season sale on beach wear. I chose several bright Hawaiian prints to try on. They were all of course, one-piece. No skirts, though, or high cut thighs. I pulled and wiggled on the first suit and stood back to take a look.
Now what? Those can’t be my thighs. They had dimples and ripples, on the front, on the sides and in the back. Something I associated with the Fat Lady at a carnival. I knew I had only gained 3 or 4 pounds in all those years, so it couldn’t be fat cells. How come I hadn’t noticed?
Well, back at home, the bathroom the mirror ends at the counter. My thighs had been hiding from view for all these years. Time had been having an impact.
I then began to wonder- what else I had been unaware of?
-To Be Continued: Part II