Soon I am going to Target with one of the very FEW women I would ever trust enough to do this with. She is kind of private in things of the *world wide web* so I don't know how to refer to her to protect this privacy. She has been a loving and constant friend for a few years now, and I trust her with my panic. She is one of the few people I can risk "let" seeing me, the real me, breakdown... and not feel shame or embarrassed.
I need a swimsuit.
Not want. Need.
I am a different size than I was last year, and the year before - and well, we are leaving in 2 days to take our brood of kidlets to California.
I think this has been the source of my anxiety and subsequent insomnia over the last few days. So... here I go. Off to get a swimsuit. Regardless of my size or its size. Because I refuse to let my fucked up body image ruin or steal a moment of my time with my kids on this first, amazing family vacation that S and I are taking them on.
Or at least that's the plan.
So as my Middle, S's "twin-separated-by-32years" would say: Let's do this thing.