Walking through the burning coals

Bare of check book and bare of soul

Take each suit from off the rack

Horizontal stripes—go back!

Searching, sorting, one by one

‘Til it seems I’ve bypassed none

With my arms piled high and full

Dragging steps lead me to the changing cubicle

 

All too soon reaching dressing room door

It seems I could delay no more

On bringing all in, the clerk does nix

So searching my pile, I take the first six

I go in, after being wished luck,

I search for some new long-lost pluck

Though my birthday suit’s no longer new—

I’m skinny dipping ‘til this search is through!

 

Here I am, the first suit’s on—

Moment of truth—conclusion forgone?

And so to the mirror my eyes turn, terrified

Yes my every flaw has just been magnified!

Who decided a bow should go right there?

Even compensating for underneath underwear…

No!   Maybe this bikini will do the trick

Except the pale yellow color makes me look sick…

 

Here, this one’s better, the top looks nice

I won’t even worry about the high price

Now for the bottom, can it be lawful

For anything to make me look this awful?

Perhaps I should try this one piece suit

Attractive…except where they placed the fruit!

How could these suits make me look worse

Than out of some strange old voodoo curse?

 

Somehow, when fully dressed, I look rather typical

Though in these suits I feel like quite a bigger gal

In the latest contender, my thighs make me shudder

No words could describe, so I must mutter

To the clerk who asks how I am doing

It’s no Wheel of Fortune—no “Ah”ing or “Ooh”ing

In another store, the clerk’s far too busy

To help me sort through a selection so large, I feel dizzy

 

Here I am, Day Three Store Seven

It hasn’t been exactly a slice of heaven

More like from the other side

With gravity’s firm hold I must abide

Tried on almost everything, almost everywhere

Starting to feel as though I no longer care

Ready to settle for, “Well, it doesn’t look too bad”

With self-esteem knocked down a tad

 

My plain, bare skin’s seeming better by the minute

Than one of these suits when I am in it

I guess I can settle for this one right here

If I don’t take one single more look in the mirror

I can live with this tankini

Then live without much more linguine…

Credit card smoking, I am out the door

Looks like I will publicly swim once more!

 

**This account based on a true story.  Jannica survived her experience, and has swum again publically after only a few therapy sessions.