It was on sale. A bright pink bikini with rouching in all the right places. The promise of an enhanced bust and minimised thighs. I hadn’t worn a bikini since my eldest was born, pregnancies being the exception. When I was proud to display my burgeoning belly in all its glory.

I tried the bikini on. And judged the woman in the mirror in front of me. The slight belly. The saddlebags. The flabby bits under my arms. The dimpled thighs. The deflated breasts.  Read more…