Thoughts #1: Why bikinis are never the same once you grow up

While you grow older there come moments in life where you come to realize you should have enjoyed more of the things when you still had them. Your carefree childhood. The siestas that you could still afford when you were kicking it in the nursery school. The summer holidays that never came to an end as you were boring yourself to death. The permanent bikini body you just took for granted in the 2nd grade of high school. Regardless of the season, you never looked like a walrus in a bikini.

Reflecting on my younger years I have stopped understanding why in the name of heaven I felt too insecure to walk in a bikini during my teens. Because let’s face it, it hasn’t gotten any better with the bikini proof body. Increasingly my office belly is ruining my tight gala dresses and more often than not I catch myself holding my breath, suck it in when photo needs to be captured. Because as a woman, you simply do not want to be complimented on your forthcoming first born when actually you are not expecting a baby in the least.

The unenviable life of growing up has never prepared me for being grateful for the things I had. If I could it all over again, I would totally exploit my body. I would only wear topcrops with ruptured jeans shorts. I would parade in my bright yellow bikini on the boulevards of the Scheveningen beach and eat ice creams until I got miserable of it. I would breakfast each day with fries drowned in mayo and eat lunch with croquette sandwiches. Then, I still had no idea yet times were going to change so drastically. That the tight body I once had wasn’t going to last forever. That bread would turn into my fiercest enemy. That one day I would be surrendered to the overpriced cattle-fodder of those hipster places whose names I cannot pronounce. That there will be times during which I can only think of my beloved KFC when doing my aweful weekly squats.

That’s why I solemnly pledged myself to only keep eating celery and cucumber from this moment onward. So that when Summer comes knocking on my door, I can enter the cool kid’s shops with my head held up high and buy all the short pants that my mother would never approve of. Summer, I am ready for ya!