This quote is from the absolutely incredible and potentially life-changing book The Courage to Be Disliked, by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga. We studied it for the Bodhicitta Book Club I run, and I'd read it before as well. Our book club spent a couple months working through this book, discussing a section every two weeks, and it was really powerful to hear people's experiences with the contents of this book. I highly recommend it.
Let me give some context for this quote. The book is a dialog between a philosopher and a younger person who has come to the philosopher to argue some of the premises about happiness that he has heard attributed to the philosopher. The philosopher proceeds to give him instruction over time in a socratic dialog approach. In the section from which I pulled the line above, the philosopher is talking about how everyone has a desire to improve. No one is perfect. People have their own strengths and their own weaknesses, and it's important not to compare people. The idea that "There is no such thing as a 100% person," is that we too often are prone to holding ourselves and others up to an idealized person who is good at everything and great in every way. That person doesn't exist, so we need to stop that. We can appreciate where we are at and also kindly see where we have room to grow. That is natural because it is what humans do (and non-human living beings). We grow in so many ways.
Okay, with that set up in mind, on to the latest "Ugh seriously Universe I literally just finished writing a blog post about the most recent learning experience so maybe I could have a little break of just pleasant times without running into an Area I Need To Grow?"
Last night David and I attended an absolutely amazing concert with some friends. It was Michael Franti & Spearhead, and if you don't know their music at all, do yourself a favor and look them up. They have a lot of great songs, but a new favorite from the show last night is their song, "Good Shit Happens." Afterwards, we headed to a DJ set in downtown Salt Lake City. There we met with different friends and had a great time dancing for a couple hours (though I definitely need to invest in some appropriate ear plugs). After that, there was an after party at one of the couples' homes.
I'm going to jump tracks here real quick for a minute. I have not felt comfortable in a swimming suit for nearly 40 years. I turned 45 in May, so you can do the math. I have a vivid memory of being 6 and one of my siblings making a comment about my belly when I was in my swimming suit. Now, as a mom of 5 kids, I know that growing kids do a lot of of "chunk out, shoot up" when they are actively growing, and that a belly on a little kid is perfectly normal. But as a 6 year old, I felt like this was not okay and was something to be embarrassed about. My good friend at the time had a slimmer build, and I noticed she didn't have a little belly that stuck out at all when she was in her swimsuit. She also was non-white and I had already internalized that tan skin was more attractive. Thus began my uncomfortable relationship with swimming suits. Every time I have shopped for a swimsuit, it has been emotionally challenging. From my position as a 45 year old woman, I can rationally accept the idea that a wide variety of body types are normal, but I still don't really know how to feel about my child, adolescent, teenaged, and young adult bodies. From childhood into college I always felt not thin enough to be very cute, and if you couple that with the strict "modesty standards" (and accompanying shaming and villifying of women's bodies) I grew up with, I didn't really figure out how to dress in a way that felt very me, or that made me personally feel attractive. Before I met David I went through a very painful breakup and lost a notable amount of weight due to depression, so I was happy to be thinner when we got married than I'd ever been in high school. But no matter what my weight, I never felt like my body SHAPE was the right one for swimsuits. The most comfortable I ever have felt in a swimsuit since the age of 6 was when I was pregnant with twins, because even though my massive belly was its own thing, my breasts filled out the top of my maternity swimsuit in a very flattering way. Whoo hoo--finally ONE part of my body was cooperative. (Sidenote: we did a lot of swimming that summer and one of our favorite toddler Leif memories is when I was crouched down helping him get his swimsuit on after I'd already gotten mine on, and he said, "Mama, I like your swimming boobs," and proceeded to "honk" both of my breasts with his little hands.) And since having the twins (they were born at 38 weeks 4 days and weighed 9 lb and 7 lb 12 oz each), add crepey, stretched out skin around my belly to the list of "Swimsuit Incompatible Body Parts."
I can honestly say that if it weren't for wanting to engage and have fun with my kids, I would have abandoned swimming and swimsuits altogether. I don't particularly enjoy swimming, but I don't know how much of that is because of years of negative associations with swimsuits. In high school my best friend was a lifeguard and had a backyard pool, and would periodically have pool parties. I would go but spend very little time out of the water without something else on over my suit. And the parties were not something I enjoyed all that much. Too much physical discomfort and awareness of how badly I was doing at this Female Beauty Standard. A couple years ago I decided to just see if I could find something that I felt comfortable in so I could swim with the kids with a little more peace. I realized I liked my workout clothes, which were an exercise tank and capris, so maybe there was an option like that for a swim suit. Definitely lots of tankini tops (hooray!) and I happened to discover swimming capris. To be honest, I have felt a little odd wearing them because I feel like people associate longer swimming bottoms with people who are hyper concerned with "modesty," but they actually feel comfortable for me to wear, so to hell with it all.
Okay, back to the main narrative thread here. We headed over to our friends for the afterparty, and within a minute of walking in, one of the friends of the hosts walked out to the kitchen in a very revealing bikini. And soon another woman came out, similarly attired. Now, these people have a pool and a hot tub, so this made sense. I wasn't aware that the afterparty would be a swimming party, but I'd also never been to a gathering at their house, and I think that's kind of how most of their gatherings go. Now both of these women have the kind of bodies that swimsuits, and bikinis, are designed for. David soon came out in a tight fitting mens swimsuit (not trunks but not a Speedo, either). And soon found out that they had a large bin of swimsuits all washed and packaged in a large closet and people just go and find one and put it on. Our other friends went and found swimsuits to wear, too. I had a couple of well-intentioned people come up and encourage me to find a swimsuit and join everyone. All the while my discomfort with the whole situation was brewing and growing, and I wasn't completely aware of what was at play. I just knew that I was very very uncomfortable. Finally I agreed to go in and look at the swimsuits, mostly to stop the chatter about it, but that made it worse. I knew, looking at the bagged up suits, that there was absolutely zero chance that I would find one to wear comfortably because I have not felt comfortable in a swimsuit for decades and I certainly wasn't going to luck into some unicorn of a suit that I felt comfortable in here. Not among these bodies. My mood went from anxious to completely shut down. I tried to have some space but my well-meaning friends kept checking on me and trying to get me to engage.
Again, it wasn't until today when I was processing the situation did I see the connections between all of it. Last night I figured maybe I was just tired (I had just spent most of the previous five hours on my feet dancing, and that was after a 5 am wake up to get Zion and friends to the airport). Or maybe it was just a lot of people I wasn't that familiar with. Maybe a variety of things. It was pretty disappointing, though, to feel so out of sorts in this social setting when I've been riding the highs of so many positive group experiences over the past while. But as the pieces came together today I could have some more understanding and compassion for myself. My body image issues around swimsuits are pretty deep and painful. I have worked around them by finding an option that works for me good enough to do what I want in the water (play with my kids in pools on occasion). In the rest of my life, I have really enjoyed opening up my wardrobe options to include tank tops because I think they are flattering and feminine and lovely. I feel like I have figured out clothes that make me feel comfortable and happy and like me. I'm mostly okay with my stretched out belly skin because I'm glad I have my twins. There are perks, especially as I age, to having small breasts. I can find pants don't draw too much attention to my thighs. But my general "okayness" with my body does not translate over to swimsuits.
So today I was imagining a pool party and what it would take for me to feel comfortable. First of all, I would need to have my own swimsuit, not try to find one amongst the collection of several dozen suits that a woman smaller than me (who also looks amazing in swimsuits) had collected. But I realized that I wouldn't want to be wearing what I've defaulted to wearing in a setting like that, either. I'd feel just as out of place as I did last night in my jeans and tank top that I'd worn to the shows. I would want to be in a more flattering suit, but I just don't have the body for it. Which raised the question in my mind, "Do I have to figure out a way to like pool parties?" My first answer was yes, because David thinks things like that are fun. I thought of other situations that are similarly uncomfortable to me-, and really anything where I am not in control of my clothing choice for whatever reason triggers a lot of discomfort. Then I thought, "You know what, I don't think I do have to like pool parties. They don't align with things I enjoy, and honestly the reasons I don't enjoy them don't matter all that much. I can just not like them. And I can not attend them." Even with that allowance, I still felt pretty bad about it. Then I had the thought, "You know, there are plenty of group gatherings I do enjoy. Dancing, game night, book clubs, dinners, concerts, hikes, etc." I especially thought of book club, and how that isn't something everyone would enjoy. Maybe some of these women who look absolutely amazing in a bikini would feel very uncomfortable in a book club type discussion for whatever reason. Maybe it would be uncomfortable because it wasn't a good "fit" for them and their interests and abilities. Maybe they just wouldn't like it. And I thought, "Would I trade my enjoyment of book club for an enjoyment of pool parties?" No. I wouldn't. That's when the line from the book that I chose as the title popped into my mind. "There is no such thing as a 100% human." We don't have to like everything that everyone else likes. It is okay for me to dislike something even if the other dozen plus people last night liked it. I actually can say no to attending things like that in the future, instead joining friends for options that are enjoyable to me as well. This isn't to say that maybe I might find a swimsuit option that would make a pool party more enjoyable to me, but I don't feel compelled to do that because I have to get over this issue. A friend of ours was talking to David last night and said something about what life is like in Mindy's World, and how that is a pretty cool and magical place that my dearest friends hope to be able to spend time in and be invited to. David shared that idea with me today and I had the thought, "Mindy's world doesn't have to have pool parties in it. It can have music and dancing and book clubs and game nights and snuggling and laughing and all sorts of wonderful things. And it is completely okay if there aren't any pool parties." But who knows, maybe someday it will.
A final thought before I wrap this up. With this post and the last couple of posts, I definitely have wrestled a bit with the fear of oversharing or feeling too exposed. But what has made me take the risk and open up about these issues is what I keep finding to be the power of honesty. Last year I read Ram Dass' autobiography (which he had a collaborator on because it was difficult for him after his stroke to do alone) and I was deeply struck by the level of honesty he had throughout this book. I'd read parts and feel amazed that he was sharing the shadowy parts of himself with so much detail and honesty. And I felt so enriched by that. We try so hard to show up as our best selves all of the time, and we like it when people compliment our shiny parts that we've worked on. But we carry the shame of our shadowy sides and fear that if anyone really knew X or Y about us, or knew our very specific neuroses, that we would be rejected. I keep finding this to be absolutely false. Maybe reading these posts turns some people off of me. That's actually okay, and makes more room in my life for the people who truly love me. And that's where I want to spent the bulk of my time, anyways.
Edited to Add: I wrote this post back in August, published it, then removed it a couple days later. I opened it up tonight and removed a few lines, but other than that, here it is. It's kind of extra vulnerable feeling for me, even though I think body & appearance issues are ones that so many people struggle with. I really am striving to give up comparison in all its forms and to replace it with celebration and gratitude. It's a work in progress for sure.
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