Tomato Skin

All my life,

I have been insecure about the way I look.

No matter the season,

I was always hiding—

but especially in summer.

.

The season full of freedom, heat, and joy

always seemed to be my least favorite.

Summer meant uncomfortability in more ways than one:

too hot under layers meant to shield me,

or exposed in bathing suits

that never fit quite right.

.

The one time I wore a tankini,

I was mocked.

I loved swimming,

but hated the swimwear.

.

But I have had some conversations with Miss Sun,

and after years of self-loathing,

I finally see something different—

something others have been seeing all along.

.

The beauty

hidden deep

in clothes.

.

I forced myself

to buy a bikini this summer—

my favorite lavender color.

When I first tried it on,

I was hesitant,

even a little sad.

.

But from that day on,

I’ve been slipping into tighter clothes

instead of being swallowed by them.

It wasn’t easy,

but I’ve started seeing myself

in a whole new light.

.

The number on the scale hasn’t changed,

but my confidence has.

.

Beauty isn’t a number—

it’s what we make it.

.

The first time

the sun touched my hidden skin,

I felt

pure joy.

Peace.

Stillness.

.

I didn’t care if the world was watching.

I wanted them to.

.

That first tomato-ing of the season

has never felt so good.

.

Growing up,

sunburns always made my skin peel—

another layer of shame.

Now,

I invite the burn.

I earn it.

.

The sting soothed

by aloe,

by tenderness,

by the freckles that follow.

I love my freckles—

little reminders

that I’ve said hello to Miss Sun.

.

Now,

when I pass the mirror,

I see the queen

everyone said I was.

.

I see the body I kept hidden for years.

.

And for the first time,

I finally saw me.

.

Summer still isn’t my favorite,

but it’s no longer my least.