Bikini gets revenge

The summer began to fade & with that, my fear of the bikini waned. Soon it would be all over. I had a plan to rid myself of the awful bikini of shame once and for all. My plan was simple....I planned....to out grow that hideous thing, never to be able to fit in it again! Next summer I would be 13. A real, live TEENAGER! I was sure, once that magical number hit, I would become a hard nosed, say what I want, defiant teenager. (That of course...never happened...but lets not tell my 12 year old self that quite yet!) I would finally be able to say to my mom "NO Women! I shall not wear what you pick out for me! I shall wear what I want, when I want it!"



That summer, I had only worn the bikini of tackiness once. I could see the end of the tunnel! I was almost freeeeee!



That was...until I got.... THE INVITE!



Freak'n A man! I was invited to a 4H pool party. Yes.... I was in 4H. When you moved to the country it's mandatory that every kid joins either the FFA or the 4H. If this didn't happen, red necks pull up in their rusted out Ford & hauled your butt back to the city..."where ya belonged ya country wanna bez!"! My folks worked in "the city" to begin with. We didn't have a lot of friends in Hicksville...so off to 4H I went. I did it to save the family name. Kids are always the sacrificial lamb!



So now I had to attend an end of summer party with my little troop & their chain smoking, gossipy mothers....in my bikini.



So my Classy Mom & I showed up at this house. I am wearing shorts & a Tee clutching my bag of shame. My mother wears her pleated pants & a sweater....with pearls.

We walk into the house & say our hellos. I was then told by my 4H Pool Mom to "Go get dressed & go swimming honey!" So I trudged up to a pink bedroom & changed. I wrapped my towel around me tight like a straight jacket, hoping if I squeezed hard enough..... I would pass out.... & die..... & then not have to go swimming.


I tried to hide in the house. Standing by my moms side, doing my best to work on my telepathy skills. "mom...if..you...love...me...you'll..take...me...home" She never heard me. My friends found me & dragged me outside. All the girls are in their bathing suits (ALL 1 piece thank you very much!) I start to feel embarrassed as the bikini knit is burning into my flesh. But I push down the anxiety & decide to roll with it. " Who cares" I tell myself. This will be the last run of the bikini. After to day I'm done. And life will go on.



Soon I got comfortable chasing my friends in & out of the house killing time while the hot dogs cooked. Then up the deck latter we go. We all hold hands & jump into the ice cold water. Underwater I feel the grip of the girls hands & for a moment I feel OK. "Hey, these girls will still hold my hand even though I'm wearing this tragic thing!" Up to the survive I rise. I gulp in air as I push back my hair & rub my eyes which now STING! Great Craw Fish! My eyes are burning! I rub & rub, momentary blinded. Soon....a sound...comes from the direction of the deck. A deep voice...must be a Dad.





Trying to focus as the chemical bath seers my eye balls. There on the deck..... A dad? Vision become cleared. But now there was no missing them as they rose up on to the deck slugging each other & flexing their tiny chests. Sweet river of mercy. Boys. Half naked. At my stupid, hick 4H pool party. Half naked, punching each other. Half naked on the deck. Half...naked.



No one bothered to tell me Miss Pool had 2 brothers who came with 2 friends. Great Crackinflabbin! What the funk was I to do now?! I was TRAPPED! I had to swim...with BOYS looking at my bikini!



I wanted...to ...dieeeeee.









The wind howled on the prairie that day. It was freezing cold. Cold as my soul....& butt! I scrambled out of the pool into my towel as fast as I could. I NEEDED to check on the hot dogs! NOW! I couldn't breath. I was embarrassed & freezing cold. Soon help was on the way....lunch was served. Ahhh no more swimming. I was safe in my towel tent. Everyone races out of the pool & we all jam in together at the picnic table. Warn hot dogs before us.



But now parents head inside to eat...because it's SO cold! We all chatter & vibrate. So.....cold....in our wet bathing suits. The girls get a bright idea to put on their shirts over their suits. But soon the wet from their suit soak the shirt & they are back to being hypothermic. I decide I will be the smart one! I run up to the pink bedroom to change clothes. But just as I begin to change, my mother walks in to the room to see if I am ok. I tell her I'm done swimming. But she tells me I have 2 more hours of swimming. Oh...yeah.... So I decide to then just strip off my wet top & put on my shirt. Then I just have to put on the wet, cold top instead of the whole kitten caboodle when I get back in to swim! Brilliant! So off goes my top & on goes my long black shirt. I wrap my towel around my waist & sulk down to the party.



We stuff ourselves with hot dogs, making fun of the wimpy parents sitting in the warm house drinking their coffee in front of the huge glass bay window. We laugh & laugh. The BOYS Laugh with us. Teasing & heckling us girls. We revel in the attention. Next thing I know all of us kids are running & jumping & throwing hot dog buns & screaming & falling all over ourselves with fun. I'm full & happy. The sun warms my black shirt just right. We realise we only have a half an hour left to swim. So we throw caution to the wind & decide to take one last swim in the freezing water.



Running across the yard the boys rip off their shirts, scamper up the the deck & try to break each others necks as they jump in the pool. One by one the girls march up the deck, strip off their shirts & jump in. Screaming as they hit the water. I...am the last one up. Running to the edge of the pool. I don't want to jump in, it's so cold. But the kids beg. If they did it, I had to do it. So I throw of my towel & peel off my long, black shirt. I swing the shirt over my head, just like they do in those strip shows (where I learned about strip shows I will never know) The shirt flies behind me & I stand there for a second dreading that cold water. As I contemplate if I realllyyy want to get my now comfortably warmed body wet, a cold hand shoots out of the water, and grips my my ankle. I feel myself being pulled into the water. I hear yelling behind me. Slow motion... I am dragged into the water. The realization hits me....in slow motion.






I never put back on my bikini top.






Underwater I stay. I can hear nothing above me. No muffled voices. No laughter. Nothing. They saw me I think. No really?! I did ...a ...STRIP...tease! In front of BOYS! In front of PARENTS! I can see what the parents see....my bare back, swinging my shirt over my head giving the boys the show of my one breast! Damn that city girl!



OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!!!!



My lungs run out of air. I stay at the bottom of the pool with my eyes burning. I cry & cry & cry as fast & as hard as I can for the 21.5 seconds I am underwater. My poor mother! OH BIKINI OF SHAME how you mock me! My mom will be so mad at me. What am I going to do?



Well..........After I become faint from the lack of oxygen. I swallowed what dignity I had & stood up. Luckily one of the DAD'S (Sweet Jesuit PRIEST...could it get any worse?) threw my shirt toward me. I pulled it right on & hopped out of the water pushing past the dad. I see my poor, heart broken mother race towards me. Her face drawn tight. Her eyes rimed with red. Oh no! My mother will never survive this shame I brought on the family name. She wraps a dry towel around me & hustles me to the house. Where parents sneer at me...the slut.... as I get pushed up the stairs to the pink room. The door closes. My mom starts to cry.



Cry.








Cry because SHE IS LAUGHING SO HARD!






Are you serious?! She desperately covers her mouth with her hands trying to stay the gut busting guffaws. Tears streaming down her face. She can't breath she is laughing so hard. She tries to talk but what comes out are little crying, meowing sounds. Oh for the LOVE OF PETE!



I try not to laugh. I want to punch something. My mom is trying to be a saintly mother by dressing her humiliated naked daughter... as she laughed. Compassion mixed with bone cracking laughter. That...is my life.



My mom & I left the party in a hurry. She continued to laugh for hours. I ended up laughing too. Thankful she wasn't mad at me. Thankful that it was so funny that it turned out not to be a big deal. So I bared my one tiny breast for all to see....life happens....right? No big deal? The Good Lord didn't kill me like I had asked that day ....but he did bless us with moving to a new town shortly after that. Talk about a blessing! Can you imagine my fate if I would have stayed in Hickville....to attend Jr. High? Or High School?! I dare not even entertain that thought.



I did return to 4H for a few more months. No one said a word about "the incident." But they did feel it was necessary to take away my job.



I was the 4H entertainment councilor.

Bikini of shame

I was looking forward to our Florida vacation. I was 12. I was a kid. I was developing....1...breast...at a time. I was lanky & bony & clumsy & buck toothed & had a perm.

I was excited to flee the 1 stop light, backwater farm town for the warm sands of Florida.

I was excited....until my mother brought home.....THE BIKINI.

What possessed my mother to buy me THAT bikini? Have ya seen it? Brown, KNIT. What time period was brown knit bikinis in fashion? It certainly wasn't in the 1980's! Did she hate me? Did she get a kick out of it when I tried it on? Did she stifle a giggle as I desperately tried to maneuver the knit out of my bum cheeks without looking stupid? Did she not know me at ALL?

At first I thought it was a joke. A twisted, mean joke. But she was serious. "You'll look so cute & so grown up!" I wished it was a joke....because the feeling I got as I tried it on & as she beamed with pride..... was a feeling of piercing, bottomless, haunting, therapy inducing humiliation.

The BIKINI of SHAME was like I said many times before...a brown stripped, knitted monstrosity. The top had to be tied around the neck & back. The bottoms were held together by ties on the side. Ties that more then once came lose. They loosened to a point that when I came out of the water (in the sparkling pool you see in the background)....my bottom came off. My BOTTOM....CAME....OFF. Sweet Jiggly BEETLE! THE SHAME! But luckily for me the motel we were staying at in sunny Florida was a dump...that no one stayed at. So even though I came out of the water bare a$$ed, my mother was the only 1 to see it. "You are so cute!" (I think she wasn't right in the head...really)

I did survive Florida.

I survived...the Bikini.

Back at home in farm country I felt I was safe. There was no pools in Farm Town...only a private rock quarry that my Dad took me to once in awhile to go fishing & swimming. (really don't know how I survived swimming in...a rock quarry that, at its shallowest point was 20 ft. deep!) I could jump in the water with my clothes on. I didn't need no stink'n bikini!

But then...my luck ran out.

I was invited to a swim party for my 4H group.

My mother made me wear...The Bikini.

To a swim party....with BOYS.

The Lord never did kill me...no matter how hard I asked him to.

I need to go to my safe place now. Once I have my therapist on speed dial...I shall return with the rest of

THE BIKINI OF SHAME.