Swimming laps at the public pool in my neighborhood is an adventure. You can’t actually swim laps, you weave them together while dodging balls and fists and kicks to the head. It is a gauntlet of children and I love it…sort of….Today I invited my friend “Fufan”* to come swim with me, because I imagined we would join forces like teamwork sharks and all the kids would be so scared of us they would clear out of our lane.
I was late picking Fufan up to go swimming. 4 minutes late. Why? oh cause I ran into Ben Affleck.
I don’t know if Ben Affleck writes in a diary, but if he does, I’m pretty sure his entry today would read.
June 27th “Dear Diary I went to Brunswick Georgia today, while walking down the Historic street of Newcastle I saw a real woman, real as they come, I was so impressed by her realness I got shy and started pointing at buildings. I can not stop thinking about her, The first thing I noticed was she was really hot… temperature wise and dressed in a way that said…I don’t care what you think…It was refreshing. She seemed to be carrying a bag full of garbage, she was in fact walking towards a trash can when our eyes met…after she turned the corner I went back to that trash can and rummaged around in her refuse, just to feel closer to her. Is that weird?”
….Well maybe that last bit about the trash wouldn’t make it into his diary…but the rest of it had a profound liberating effect on me and I will tell you why.
I have arm fat. I don’t like my arm fat, its not just a big arm, it is coagulated monster fat and I feel bad that the world has to look at it. Yes I am aware there are ways to get rid of this arm fat, push ups maybe, maybe not dipping everything in Nutella, or eating cookies on the quarter hour…I know. But lately I have found it easier to just wear a shirt. Shirt on, arm fat gone…sort of.
And then…it got hot and suddenly I have a new outlook. Screw it. SCREW IT. Seriously world. I suddenly don’t care what you think, get ready, cause I’m coming your way arm fat a swinging. This morning I took a little walk before my swim, I wore my bathing suit, a strapless sundress, a tube of sunscreen and a gallon of sweat. My hair is piled on my head encouraging the sweat to swim all over my body making ghost trails in my sunscreen. I am walking, smiling, I hold my head up high, screwing it all over the place with my arm fat and the world. I feel good, so good in fact I decide to clean my car out.
The Ben Affleck meet-cute occured at this wonderful crossroads of self acceptance, and car cleaning happiness, As I turned the corner with a bag full of capri sun wrappers and what might have once been a banana, I see a group of handsome men walking towards me. Men strangers. If you know me, You know I love strangers..and men strangers are my favorite. I have inner thoughts. Arm fat thoughts..and then I just shake it off “you’re done hiding ED, Own it, Work it….Sexy garbage in your hand” I start laughing to myself upon approach, and then smile..eye contact..BAM..WTF, that’s Ben Affleck. He’s not even a real stranger.
( cause I know him from the movies )
Listen Ladies, and men too, who are held hostage by their own self talk. Ashamed of your baldness, your beer belly, your so and so, and diddly what…no one cares, I know it, you know it, they just don’t. Ben Affleck did not slow down, he did not pass out, he did not stop traffic, wave his hands in the air and say
” Lady, Hey Lady cover that shit up” Oh no he did not. He loved me just as I am. I mean..I assume…had we spoken.
*names changed to protect the innocent….except for Ben Afflecks name.
