Thick Thighs and Booty Cheeks on the Beach

I’m still pretty self-conscious and don't frequently wear form-fitting clothing from head-to-toe or show a ton of skin, but I'm working on it. Self-love is an ongoing, ever-changing process, right?


If you've never seen me in person, I pull a decent-sized “wagon” behind me, and in the country my body type is referred to as “stout” (meaning “thick”). I’m technically one of those girls who was skinny and just got a little bit bigger. These days, I’m smiling a bit more when I walk past the mirror. And that’s a huge deal for me. The stretch marks don’t bother me anymore, and I think I look pretty dang good at this size. Walking around the house most days in lingerie probably helped. And I mean all day long, lounging in faux fur sets and satin robes and what not.


Y’all should try it out. Seriously.


A while ago, I wrote this blog post about my body image issues. There were some who felt where I was coming from, but more often than not I was met with comments like,


 ”Girl, talk to me about body issues when you’ve had three kids and look like me.”

”Chile, you are SKINNY and you look good!” 

”You don’t even know what big is.” 


I'm not about making other people's expressions of what's bothering them about myself, so I wasn't a fan of it happening to me. I basically did the same as most people in the "whose body is worse" olympics and shut the hell up. 



It took me YEARS to start gaining weight. I didn’t reach 100 pounds until the second semester of my freshman year of college, and in all the years prior I remember eating nonstop because summer two-a-days and after-school practices as an athlete left me hungry. For years I couldn’t break 90 pounds. I remember being so excited to call home and tell my mama I couldn’t fit my size 0 skinny jeans anymore back in 2011 because I was finally in the triple digits.  

Today, I’m at 137. 


Since moving to SC back in 2014, I’ve fluctuated between 125 and 135 frequently. Each time I've passed 130 it's freaked me out. Every time I believed that I was too overweight and looked sloppy, so I'd eat less and try to work out to get the weight back off. It never mattered though, because I just didn't LIKE my body at any size. Right now I’m at my heaviest, but I’m HAPPY. Not having a super flat stomach anymore isn't even on my list of stressors now.

It's taken me all this time to talk about it again online, because people think if you have a “nice” body (which is all kinds of subjective depending on your visual preferences) then you should have zero worries related to looks. Add to that the bonus, unwarranted comments from family members about how skinny you were for years, but how you've gotten so fat now when all you did was grow up and finally develop a pretty standard “99s and the 2000s” type of body. What y’all really want from me, man?  

I recently bought a bathing suit style that I NEVER would have considered wearing when I was thinner, even though it probably would have been more “appropriate” then by some standards. Back then I had enough breasts to warrant a bra, but not enough to create resting, unforced cleavage. The suit came from Aerie, and it plunges in the front, is backless, and is a cheeky cut. The cheeky cut back then wouldn't have raised any eyebrows.

Cheeky cut on me in 2018 turns into a semi-thong in 10 steps or less, but this past weekend I said screw it. The boobs and booty were POPPIN’ on Sullivan’s Island, y’all! I had zero worries about the cellulite and stretch marks, and guess what else?





So here’s to walking past the mirror this summer and saying “DAMN GIRL! YOU FINE!”

There are a million ways to be a baddie outchea.