Bikinis and Beginnings

The bikini is pink, and it shows a lot of skin. It has nothing to hide the scars. "I'm not so sure," I whisper, twisting around to see myself in different angles.

My older sister Angie crosses her arms. "I think you look great," she says. She rests a hand on my shoulder and flashes me a smile. "I'm sure Drew's gonna think so too."

I purse my lips and fidget with the straps, pushing her hand off of me.. "But you can see the fakeness... And the scars." I motion to the line that is very visible in my armpit, no matter how close they are to my body. "People are definitely going to notice these.."

Angie sighs and twirls a strand of thick brown hair. "Come on, Lexie. It's pride month; you should embrace the scars. I mean, you have come so far." She rests a hand on her hip before twisting me around to the front. "Look! You look beautiful, sis."

I stare at my reflection, flickering my gaze up and down. It's more like lingerie than something I would really wear in public. Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, "Yeah, but... I don't like it." 

"If you're really that worried, I can find another one," Angie says, a little defeated.

"Please?" I ask, tilting my head to look over at her. "I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure." She turns around to get the hangers for me. "I still say you're killing it."

I sigh and snatch the hangers from her before I shove her out through the dressing stall door with my shoulder so I can get changed in peace. Angie laughs at my persistence and shuts the door behind her. When I know for certain the door's locked, I turn around and start to take off the rejected pink bikini.

My hands stop at my shoulders, moving to lower the straps. Involuntarily, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and my eyes move up and down the figure in the glass. Waves of auburn hair curl around my face, highlighting my light brown eyes. And then, the curves. I lower my arms, forgetting about the bikini, and run one of my hands down my side. It isn't a dream. I smile, unable to contain the emotion surrounding this reflection, even though it's been six weeks now that this image has been my reality. Two years ago, the thought of daring to wear a one-piece was a fantasy, tucked away into the corner of my mind. Hell, two years ago I was too terrified to wear even a remotely feminine top, and that was five years after I started therapy.

Here I am now, seven years later, trying on different bikinis, and, despite the anxiety surrounding my scars, there's no denying that I do feel a bit proud of how far I've come.

I unhook the back of the top and start to put it on the hanger when Angie drops something from above. I nearly let out a scream in shock. "Angie!" I yell, instinctively covering my breasts with my arm.

"Whoops! Sorry, sis!" Angie says, although I can hear the laughter behind her voice. "I thought you could see."

"I couldn't," I snap back, picking up the something from the floor. It's a sea-green bikini with ruffles across the top, sequins sprinkled across it that make it shimmer in the harsh white light of the dressing room. I hold it up to the mirror and against my chest, studying how the top might fit.

"Whatever. Gimme back the other suit," Angie says, a contented sigh chasing her words.

"One second." I hang the green suit on the door lock and quickly take off the bottoms. With the two pieces on the hangers, I wave my hand under the door, hangers on my finger. "Here."

Angie snaps them up and I hear her footsteps retreating to the reject rack. "Hurry up and put that one on so I can see what it looks like!" she calls from across the room.

"I am, I am!" I reply, already slipping the bottom over my legs.

I can practically hear the expression I know is on her face. She wants to see what the new suit looks like, and frankly, I'm excited too. I hurriedly slip the top on over my head--this one doesn't have a clip in the back--and tug at the bottom to smooth it out. Already, I can see how well it fits, and I have no choice but to grin. "Wow," I breathe, twisting to see the suit at all angles.

"Hurry up," Angie practically whines. "I want to see what my little sister looks like!"

I roll my eyes and unlock the door so she can see what I look like in the teal bikini.

She takes one look and grins so widely, it looks like her face must hurt. "Damn, sis. I think you're killing it more now," she says.

I turn back to my reflection. "I think so too." Just barely do I manage to resist the urge to pose like a runway model.

The ruffles cover my arms about halfway down, completely hiding any sight of my scars, but besides that, the sequins glitter so perfectly that I feel like I'm glowing. The top part fits more like a sports bra to accommodate the ruffles, so it ends just below my breasts, but it still is snug and comfortable. The bottom comes up just below my belly button and fits comfortably as well. I grin at the mirror and turn back to my sister. "This is perfect," I say excitedly.

"Hell yeah, it's great," she replies. "We're getting it."

"Of course we are!" I'm nearly bouncing on my toes, forgetting to keep my voice down.

Angie laughs and rolls her eyes, "Calm down, Lex," she teases. "You're going to explode."

"I am calm," I retort.

"Mhm." Angie shrugs and walks back towards the reject rack where she picks up a lilac one-piece. "Lemme try this on real quick," she says.

"But you already have six," I say, slowly closing the door so I can get changed back into my street clothing.

"Can you really have too many?" Angie sings, the click of her stall door accompanying her words.

"Maybe," I say. I pull on my clothing and hug the bathing suit to my chest, pure happiness welling up in my soul. I stand up and leave the stall to wait for my sister, resting my back against the wall. The hanger dangles from my finger. I close my eyes and think excitedly about tomorrow's trip to the pool, the first trip since my surgery, while I wait for Angie to finish trying on her new suit. I can't contain the smile on my face.