This summer my little family and I went on an actual vacation, just us.  We ended up going to Arizona, a trade with my parents for watching their dog while they went on a Panama Canal cruise. Mom gave us two weeks of her time share and the only places available were in the southwest.  DAMN HOT LAND, in layman’s terms.

Off we went to Arizona in my Glamtog van, complete with two TVs for our spawn to be entertained, much different than driving to visit relatives in Santa Barbara when I was a kid.  Oh, I adored our Blue VW bus, cried when it was sold, but damn it was a lot more uncomfortable for road trips than my kids have it!

Anyway, I decided before we left that I was going to try an experiment.  I was, after god-only-knows-how-long,  going to wear a bikini.  Yes, a dreaded two piece bathing suit.  *shudder*

Image from Pinterest.

Image from Pinterest.

Holy guacamole, the last time I wore one I was with my crazy band friends and it didn’t really matter, we were all completely non-judgmental and it felt safe to wear or do whatever we wanted to.  Or we were so hammered we wouldn’t remember anyway. Same difference.

The last time I wore a bikini. I didn't even remember doing it until I received the pic a few years ago from a friend.

The last time I wore a bikini. I didn’t even remember doing it until I received the pic a few years ago from a friend.

Always an excuse to hit my favorite store, TJ Maxx,  I bought more suits than I could ever imagine actually wearing, and revealed them to my hubby the first night of our vacation. He was floored, to put it mildly. The man had NEVER, until then, seen me even contemplate wearing a two piece. He was excited, I was terrified.  But I wasn’t going to give up.

The next day we went to the pool; I had a hard time taking off my coverup, and when I did, I was still trying to find a way to hide. Seriously, why was I even bothering?  No one was looking, no one knew me, and the only people paying any attention were my own family. My daughters were amazed and oohing and ahhhing, they ask every summer why I don’t wear one like they do. Hubby was VERY happy. I started to relax; yes, I could own this, if I just stopped THINKING so much about who would judge me.

I wore one of the bikinis every day we went to the pools.  Did I love it?  Uh, no, not all the time. Did I hate it? Hmmmm, no, not really. Was I hyper aware of other people, well, yeah, at least the first hour of wearing it each day, agonizing about all the things my people who *know me* would say.  Then it….passed….I enjoyed my books. I swam in the pool. I splashed around with my kids.  You know F-U-N.  The kind of fun we should always let ourselves have, no matter how awful we think we are/look. Isn’t that the point in life??

So the major test now: do I wear it again with people I know? No, not yet. I’m only human, not a supermodel, ya know??  But I’m really proud of myself for making the effort to break out of the restrictive zone I have lived in for 24 plus years. For cripes’ sake,  it’s time to LIVE.

So tell me a few things:  what are YOU committed to doing to get out of that restrictive zone? What do you want to do/wear/experience?  Get to it and share in the comments!  Also, share in the comments what you have done in the past and how it worked out! xo