BATHING SUIT TRAUMA

My husband, Steven came up to our bedroom door and juggled the doorknob. “What's wrong with the door?” he called.

“It's locked.” I said from the other side of that door.

“I know that!” He juggled it again. “But why?”

“Give me a second!” I called grabbing my robe and unlocking it for him.

Steven walked by me and opened the drapes. “Why is is so dark in here?” he asked.

He didn't give me a chance to answer before he asked his next question.

“Why is it so hot in here?” He opened the window then went to check the thermostat. “Who turned off the air conditioning?”

I still hadn't gotten a chance to answer before he fired off his next question.

“What's going on in here?” He looked a the open packages and boxes scattered around the bed and floor.

I paused for a moment wondering if he had any more questions. When he didn't I said, “I'm trying on bathing suits.” Figuring that should be answer enough, I pulled my robe closer around my neck.

Steven didn't understand. “You bought all these suits?” He picked up some of the packages.

“Don't mix them up!” I cried. Taking the wrappings away from him. “Most of the suits are going back and I have to repackage them exactly the way they came.”

“I don't get it.” he said. “Why don't you just go to the mall and buy a suit like everyone else?”

I tried not to laugh as I made a spot on the bed for me to sit down. “Because I'm trying on bathing suits.” I said. He looked confused, so I explained further.

“Standing in a 3x3 dressing room, with bad lighting, and strangers peeking through the curtains at my pale winter skin encased in Lycra, would have me in tears. “ I said, as I made sure my robe was covering my legs. “This way, I'm in the comfort of my own home when I cry looking at myself in a swimsuit.”

Steven sat next to me. “I don't understand why you get so upset wearing a bathing suit.” he said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I was waiting for his comforting words of how silly I was, because I always looked great to him. But instead he said. “No one has ever actually seen you in your bathing suit.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “I wear one every summer!”

Steven started to laugh. “I know you wear one, but no one has seen you in it.”

Now I was the one looking confused, so he continued. “Every summer you show up at the swimming pool wearing a cover-up that zips from your feet to your neck. Then you make a big production out of pointing to something on the other side of the pool so that when everyone looks, you can quietly slip out of your cover-up and slide into the water.”

“I had no idea you noticed I did that.” I said as I rested my head on his shoulder.

“Of course I notice.” he said, giving me a hug. “That's the easy part. What's harder is when you have to wait until he last person leaves the pool before you can get out.”

I could feel my tears welling up. He understands me.