i cant believe im saying this, and that im tearing up while writing this, but i went to my first chunky dunk a couple weeks ago. ive never gone (that i can remember anyways) to an all-bodies swim, or chunky dunk, despite several opportunities to do so over the years. But anyways, i went. i realized yesterday that when i was there, i was also bringing in all of my baggage around it.
It was wrapped up in the tank top i didnt want to wear but felt i must because of my tits and my bruises; it was in what i however incorrectly perceived to be the judgey eyes of the non fatties/non gimps working for the pool; it was drowning in the i-dont-want-to-get-out-of-
Ashamed in a space where folks twice and thrice and less-than-half my size were bounding and cavorting together, a space where my sweetie and amazing friends were, a space where i knew if anything happened, id be ok. i felt ashamed of my body, but i think it was different than that. i felt like there was the potential for there to be some kind of relief from that for a moment, like, i dont know, like it’s not that it didn’t matter (because no one in that pool i think is under the impression that bodies dont matter), but that yes it mattered. For once, i felt like my body mattered, in all its fucked upness, and that that was ok, that was welcome. i dont think ive ever felt that before in such a public space.
i so badly need to go again and taste that. im so grateful this kind of thing happens. and i wont leave it so long before i do it again. <3<3<3