Growing in Body Positivity

As I write this, I find myself reflecting on the journey my body and I have taken together.

I began my twenties with a C-section, bringing a beautiful son into the world. Over the years, my body has been through a lot—bruises, weight gain, weight loss, lumps, bumps, and blood. I’ve always tried to prioritize my health, and this year, I joined some friends in pursuing new activities; one of those is swimming.

Swimming has always been a part of my life. Growing up, I loved it. I long for the days when I could swim a kilometer effortlessly, eat an entire bag of chips, and still have my best friend marvel at my six-pack—yes, a real six-pack, not beer! Despite my love for the water, I’ve always hidden in the change room.

As a young girl, even when I was proud of my fit body, I was self-conscious about changing in public. That feeling persisted into motherhood, when I’d try to hide my body while wrangling a young child. Even now, as a woman who champions body positivity and self-love, I still struggle with it.

I’ve always admired women who walk confidently into a change room, undress, and seem entirely comfortable being seen. I’ve never been that person. For years, I thought shame was the reason—shame about my imperfect body, about my rolls, stretch marks, and bumps; but who was judging me? The other women in the change room? I doubted it. Still, the fear of anyone seeing my “flawed” body terrified me. It’s ironic, given that I have a giant tattoo on my lower back—clearly meant to be seen—but the idea of someone noticing my bare body filled me with anxiety.

Then, today, something changed.

I left the pool 30 minutes earlier than everyone else, as I usually do, to avoid the crowd. When I got to my locker, I made a decision. Instead of sneaking into a private stall to change, I decided to stay put. I would get undressed, right there in the open. If someone walked in and saw me, so be it. I guess they would catch a glimpse of my butt and my tattoo.

As I started to dress, panic set in. My leggings wouldn’t slide on—they were sticking to my damp legs. I felt the familiar rush of anxiety rising, but then I stopped. I took a deep breath. And in that moment, I let go. I let myself just be. I embraced my body, flaws and all.

It was empowering in a way I never expected. I didn’t know I could feel this way. Yes, I was alone in the room—baby steps!—but still, it was a monumental moment for me.

So, here’s my takeaway: If you’re feeling stuck, give your body some love. Maybe a little (legal) public nudity is just what you need to break free and embrace yourself.

Written by: Victoria Champion, CEO