“Hey Mom, can I get a bikini?” My 12-year-old daughter’s voice held a tinge of uncertainty.
As I looked over the store’s vibrant swimsuit display, I was bombarded by a riot of colors and styles. There were suits made of nylon and spandex that felt too revealing and flashy for my taste—nothing I would have picked for myself, not even back in my own youth.
Flashes of my past flooded my mind: hiding beneath oversized T-shirts while donning basic one-piece swimsuits, worried that showing too much skin would send the wrong message. I remembered feeling ashamed about my body, grappling with insecurities over what I perceived as flaws.
Yet, my daughter doesn’t carry these burdens. She is confident in her skin, and rightly so. Her body is a testament to strength and health, undergoing changes she embraces. She is at ease with herself.
An accomplished swimmer, she isn’t seeking attention; she simply wants to enjoy her favorite activity in attire that reflects her sense of fun. To her, bikinis are just “cute and fun.”
The only time swimwear becomes a concern is if I allow it to be. My reactions can shape how she perceives herself in that outfit—positively or negatively. If I approach her body with support, she will carry that confidence with her. If I were to criticize, those words could linger long after.
I am acutely aware that, somewhere down the road, she may encounter someone—a friend, a boy, or an advertisement—telling her she isn’t pretty enough or that she should hide her body out of shame. But today is not that day, and it certainly won’t come from me.
I turned to her, seeing the excitement in her eyes. “Of course! Let’s find one that you really love!”