Yesterday the sun shone and it seemed like half of the South East had descended on to Brighton beach!
You’ve got to appreciate the weather here really. As much as I moan about its unpredictability, it’s the same thing that makes it so great. People love a hot day and many flock to the coast to escape the humidity in the city and to be by the sea. I imagine that our love for the seaside also comes from being a child. It’s nostalgic, it’s calming and relaxing and it’s a tradition.
We aren’t renowned for our beautiful sandy beaches but Brighton doesn’t need a sandy beach. It’s iconic and holds its own.
This isn’t a post about Brighton though, it’s about me and how proud I felt yesterday. I didn’t do anything heroic, I didn’t save a life or do something for charity, I simply wore a bikini and felt like the sexiest woman on the beach! Men were staring, women were staring, maybe because my cleavage is ample but also hopefully because I looked great!
The reason that yesterday was such a special day is because a year ago I would have sat on the beach feeling insecure. My bikini would have fitted poorly and sagged on my right side where my botched breast was. I would have spent the day looking at other women and thinking how unfair it was that they had normal boobs and I didn’t. I didn’t talk about it much at the time, (my physical appearance)but it made me feel really fucking miserable.
Yesterday I felt anything but miserable. Proud of my bosom yes but ultimately proud of all I went through to get them and feel confident again…