Beauty is relative: this is how I learned it

Self-image
Beauty is relative – this is how I learned it

© Hector Roqueta / Shutterstock

Our author had to get old to understand that beauty is completely relative. She immediately bought a bikini out of sheer joy.

Years ago I almost had a key experience. Within a week I was first visiting a fashion designer and her entourage for an interview and then with a friend in the swimming pool – first a rhinoceros among elves in the Paris studio, then a pool noodle under buoys in the pool. A yo-yo effect without any weight fluctuation. With an after-two baby body in size 42 for just under one seventy, the self-image depends a lot on who is still in the picture.

Can’t I just find myself fine?

At that moment the penny should actually have dropped: When beauty is so relative Can’t I just like myself then, and so do everyone else, regardless of whether it’s XL or Size Zero? All the fullness of life? But instead of throwing my inner critic tied up and gagged overboard, I continued to think that I couldn’t expect anyone to look at myself in a bikini anymore. Not even my mirror. For years I wore swimsuits in muted colors, shirts that covered my arms, and tent-like coats for years. I stupid thought it must be like that. But I was only in my late 30s, practically half a child.

And then came the day in summer 2021 when I realized: I’m 51, so finally old enough to buy myself another two-piece suit. Simply because I feel like it. Although in the meantime I have neither gotten prettier nor thinner and run for the Miss Beachbody outside of any competition. Or maybe because of that? Under the changing room skylight, with an FFP2 mask on my face and corona bacon on my thighs, I discovered the ease of letting go. And the long-missed feeling of freedom when air comes to your belly button. The penny fell more than ten years later. I immediately booked a slot in the outdoor pool. It was only after the visit that I noticed what was missing: I had not once critically eyed my silhouette when I passed reflective glass panes. Like at 15, 25, 35. Was anyone else looking, and how? Does not matter. Perhaps looks were once valid currency. But that was also zloty, lire and pesetas. What is more valuable today: feeling good with myself.

Enjoyment of getting older

Summer is over, the new bikini is still there and the joy of getting older too. Of course, buzzwords like “Body Positivity” also boost my new self-confidence – when body shapes get applause on Instagram that don’t look like diet margarine advertising from the nineties, I visibly feel in better company. But the good feeling goes deeper than the curve-friendly zeitgeist. Part of it is caused by the pandemic: when a virus threatens health and life, it only becomes clear how grateful one can be for a body that is faithful to its service. He breathes and metabolizes and carries his most important part for a walk, his own head with his own thoughts. Even if he doesn’t always do a bella figura. Another part is Corona-independent: I pay more attention to my energy balance. Because energy wasted, I’ve had more than enough in the last few decades. With unsuccessful attempts to force myself into a shape that doesn’t suit me. Or to grieve about it.

Instead, I go through life with 70 kilos of lightness. And no longer shop with a submissive feeling and the question: “Is my poor body good enough for this or that cut, for this or that length?” But with a royal attitude: “Well, you little ones, are you beautiful enough for me?”

Barbara

source site-43