As long as I live I will never, ever forget our first "beach" date. Jack and me. I was 16 he was 17. We'd only gone out once or twice so we really didn't know one another. But going to the beach for the first time with a date was a big deal back in the 70's. Today, everything is acceptable and "friends with benefits" is a norm. I was a very shy person as a teenager who never really understood the powers a woman held. Geez! I was born in the wrong generation. Getting back to that day at the beach. I remember going in to the changing room, standing in front of the mirror, in my two piece black and white bathing suit ,(can't remember what I wore yesterday but I vividly recall that bathing suit) looking at myself and tearing down every bit of self esteem I possessed. I really, really wanted to call my mom and ask her to please come and get me. My insides fluttered as if I had swallowed several hundred butterflies. But I sucked it up and walked out to where Jack had placed the towels on the beach. Again, I'll never forget what he said. "Gosh, Janet, where are your little toes?" I was 16 years old, hormonal and attracted to this blond haired beach boy and yet all he could comment on was my friggen little toes? While I do have very small little toes, at 16 years old, he might as well have said to me, "OMG, Janet you have the fattest thighs I've ever seen!" At that age, back then at least, any negative remark about any part of a girls' body was devastating. I'm sure it's different today. Just as I wish I had been different back then. Instead of turning the color of beets I wish I would have come back with some of the comments I hear girls say today. Girls today have more balls. I love that! But I didn't and I thought for sure my little toes would stand in the way of true love.
Which brings me to the point of this whole story. Last week it was sticky, hot and humid here in this part of Florida. It was miserable. The pool across the street looked so refreshing and inviting so we decided to relax in the pool. After peeking through our side window though I noticed that many of the park's residents had the same idea we had. Now for those of you who are my age and not an Olympic competitor you will identify with my thinking. I thought back to the "little toe" incident that I was sure would end my love life and realized how stupid I had been. Cause today, trust me, no one and I do mean NO ONE, male or female, is going to notice my little toe. Instead they are going to notice my "fat thighs" and thick belly. Oh, and the cellulite that has attached itself to various body parts. I told Jack I changed my mind; I don't want to go to the pool. There are too many people in the pool. He's like, "Oh, for goodness sake (not exactly his words) no one is going to pay any attention to you or the way you look in a bathing suit. Everyone there looks the same." Meaning....old and wrinkly. I pulled the cover up over my head and agreed to at least go look at the situation. Many of them were in the pool so I couldn't judge their bodies. BUT there were several women lying in the sun...with cellulite, with fat thighs and my flabby arms. I was in good company. All of that stress preparation and I lasted perhaps 3 minutes in the pool. It's a heated pool and the water was too darn hot. Felt better out of the pool. It's like JoAnn says, "If they don't like the way I look I just don't care. This is who I am." I'm trying desperately to adopt her attitude.
Steve, a friend of ours, told us last week that many people had been pestering him to come to water aerobics. He declined for several months but finally succumbed to their pressure. Shared with us that he stayed in the back, mainly just watching how the class was instructed. When he went under water he said he saw more body parts floating that he ever dreamed was possible to float.
In conclusion, parts is parts. And old parts is well, flabby, wrinkled parts. Deal with it.
A journal written about life, retirement and our journey throughout the United States in a 5th wheel, along with our two Shih Tzus, Tanner and Syndey. Written not for notoriety but for our sons, family and friends, so they know where we are at any given time. And particularly for ourselves. Finally, we get to slow down and smell the roses and we don't want to forget any of it. You are welcome to join us as we go 'Down the Road a Piece'.
