There are moments when reality hits you like a lightning bolt, like a bikini.
Nothing feels subjective anymore.
Everything suddenly becomes objective.
Including who you really are, how you’re shaped, your curves, your measurements—and, most importantly: how much you weigh.
These moments overwhelm you. They knock down every certainty.
In an instant, you realize you’re not who you thought you were.
And the one who makes you see it clearly? The cynical sales assistant.
You walk into the store, feeling good, ready to buy a swimsuit.
A small, simple two-piece bikini, plain color.
You think you’re doing nothing wrong.
“Hello, I’d like a bikini”
You say it with a bright, proud smile.
You imagine yourself in a few hours on the beach, enjoying a delicious ice cream cone, lying under the umbrella, feeling happy.
— “Okay, what size?” the sales assistant asks.
— “A size two.”
— “You mean a size three. Maybe even a four.”
— “No, a size two.”
— “Hmm… I’d say a three. Maybe a four, at least for the bottom.”
You think: How am I made? Am I upside down? Bottom four, top three? Can she even see?
You reply:
— “Look, miss, listen carefully. I wear a size two. Please give me a size two.”
— “Honestly, I’d have you try a four.”
— “Give me a two, both top and bottom.”
— “Four.”
— “Two.”
— “Four.”
— “Two.”
— “Trust me: a four.”
— “Two!”
— “Four!”
— “Two!”
After twenty minutes of the same back and forth, you finally triumphantly leave the store with your bikini: size two, black, simple.
You get home and try it on.
It’s tight
You can’t help but notice: the sides spill out from the elastic, but it’s “just a little,” you tell yourself.
Then you think about that gym membership you bought months ago but never used.
Rowing machine? Who even talks about that? Let’s not kid ourselves.
And seriously, what even is the word “rowing machine”?
You think about the “wonder drawer” in your kitchen—that stash of cookies…
One, two, three…
Come on, I won’t eat any tomorrow. What harm could it do?
You admit to yourself that maybe the three on top and four on the bottom would have been a better fit.
That the cynical sales assistant wasn’t so cynical after all. She was just honest.
But deep down, you hadn’t asked her to tell you any truth.
So, she stays cynical about your bikini
You remember you could use a few filters on social media…
But honestly, you don’t even care about social media.
And besides, you don’t even have a filter app.
You wonder: where do I stand?
On the side of those who take perfect selfies?
Or on the side of those who hide under the umbrella, hoping not to be noticed?
Your phone rings. It’s your friend:
— “Going out tonight?”
— “Sure.”
You smile
There it is.
You’re on the side of the happy ones.
The happy ones.