If there’s one thing this recent heatwave inspires, it’s body envy. Everywhere I turned there are perfect bodies dressed in as little as possible. There are girls and women wearing short-shorts and floaty shirts, looking amazing. Don’t even get me started on some of the beach bodies I see at Bondi. Toned, tanned, fit, healthy, gorgeous.
Then there’s me.
The last time I had a beach body, I was a teenager. Then I put on heaps of weight. I eventually lost most of it but never really got to the “bikini body” stage again. I was always a one-piece kind of girl, preferably with reinforced mid-section and adequate padding to support my gravity-loving boobs.
Like most twenty-somethings, I agonised over my body. Occasionally when cleaning my house I'll come across one of my lists. I find so many of them. These lists, written approximately twice a year, each year, for the past two decades. I list all the things about myself I'd like to fix.