Sin on a hanger

Most of you know that I grew up in a tiny, ultra-conservative Christian school, kindergarten through my senior year of high school with one year of public school thrown in for good measure and corruption.

Which means I grew up being indoctrinated in the belief that bikinis (or "two-pieces," as we so delicately called them) were the devil's swimsuit. "Easy-access clothing!" my principal would bellow with a pious look of indignation on his face whenever he spoke of such things.

"Two-pieces" were banned from things like school trips and family vacation pictures that your teachers might ever see. Even one-piece swimsuits were touchy material, and most of us girls opted for super-large T-shirts and boxer shorts worn over our suits of unknown sin value, just to be sure.

We're not Amish, but we would avert our eyes from the sight of a bikini in a store ("flee the devil!"), and we would practically shun anyone we saw wearing one. If we knew you, we probably prayed fervently for your soul.

But deep inside, I wanted to be able to wear one. I knew that I never would, because that was like getting a tattoo or dancing with a boy, but dangit ... just knowing that I could if I wanted to. Chubby kid that I was, though, I couldn't ... so I never wanted to.

Graduated high school.

Graduated college.

Gained 50 pounds.

Never thought again of a bikini, a two-piece, a one-piece, a flesh-revealing swatch of spandex of any kind.

Lost the 50 pounds (and then some). A flicker of hope was rekindled, and on the other side of adolescence, a bikini was looking less like something sinful and lurid and more like something I might want to get ... if I ever lost that last 20 pounds or so.

Gained a little. Lost it back. Gained it back. Losing it back while gaining a whole new sense of confidence that I didn't ever think would be mine ... and I'm thinking that this "I'll get one if/when ..." line is a load of hooey. Wishin' and hopin' and prayin' to look like a supermodel before I tie on that halter top isn't going to get me anywhere.

Raising my arms and grinning like an idiot over being able to run that lap around the park wasn't celebration enough, I decided, and after getting even farther last night and surviving conditioning with Joe instead of Jason this morning (ouch), I decided that the right way to celebrate was ... you guessed it.

"I bought my first ever two-piece swimsuit today," I told my mom.

"Your first two-piece what-suit?" my mom asked, perplexed. I think this is a combination of words she never thought she'd hear coming from her daughter.

She was happy, actually, once she figured out what I was talking about. And my black bit of sin was on sale, too. I don't know whether it will ever leave my dresser drawer, but I had a blast trying them on today.

I can wear one if I want to. And now I have one, in case I want to.