Fat at the beach
This weekend, I’m going to be taking some much needed R ‘n’ R and indulging in a coast visit. If the weather prevails, it will be a time to walk around in my togs. I was sure I had conquered this fear of letting people see me in my togs, after all, I swim laps regularly, and people at the pool see me in my togs all the time. But for some reason, being at the beach (especially this one) feels different.
The area we’re staying in is a rather well-to-do area. We got lucky with a deal through Wotif.com.au, lots of holidaymakers stay in this area and they bring along their designer clothing, pets and bodies. I’m already feeling anticipatory intimidation! I can’t fit into or afford designer clothing, my pet is a scruffy, old Chihuahua and my body is the way it is – in no way designer or bronzed.
I know this is probably a ridiculous thing for me to obsess over, and yet, here I am, obsessing. Yet another lesson! No matter how far I think I’ve come, sometimes I’ll have a setback and have to deal with it.
So, I thought I’d test out wearing the togs (and they are FABULOUS togs) and letting people see me in those togs last weekend when I took my younger sister to go swimming at a lovely, free lagoon not far from us. On a bright, sunny day, the place was totally packed. I was very apprehensive at first, but I gradually came to realise that, like at the pool swimming laps, there were all types of body shapes and sizes and no one cares.
No one was looking at me derisively; no one was even looking at me in a complimentary way. People were just … people, at the lagoon, swimming and having fun.
If I had gone by myself (moot point, there would be no way I would have been able to go by myself), I think I would have been more nervous, but because I had my younger sister with me, it was like she was my buffer. I was too busy taking care of her and focusing on helping her with her swimming and enjoyment that I didn’t have to think about what others thought of me. I kind of wish I could take her with me this weekend, instead of my other sister! Although we both have fun together, I don’t need to focus on her entirely or help her with anything, so the focus is entirely on me. For a person with social anxiety, this is a bit scary.
But my experiment this past weekend proved that, sometimes, my social anxiety makes me hyper aware and probably the slightest bit paranoid about myself and my perceptions of myself.
I proved to my betraying brain that the only person 100% focused on me and my body is, funnily enough, me. And, I think that’s probably true of a lot of people, social anxiety or not – we are so concerned about what others think of us or what we perceive what they think of us, that we miss so much. And I don’t want to miss anything.
I want to have fun. I want to swim in the water, lie on the sand, eat fresh fruit, drink cocktails and shop at the markets. I want THAT to be my focus this weekend. I will make it my mission for it to be my focus. I need it.
