You couldn’t put on the swimsuit.

Hi friend,

The swimsuit sat on the edge of my bed.

My children were ready to go.

Towels were packed. Goggles were on. They were excited.

And I stood there wondering if I could find a reason not to go.

Maybe you’ve had a moment like that too.

Maybe it wasn’t a swimsuit.

Maybe it was shorts.

A family photo.

A beach vacation.

A pool party.

Something that quietly asked you to be seen—and every part of you wanted to disappear instead.

Because sometimes body shame doesn’t sound like:

I hate my body.

Sometimes it sounds much more reasonable.

Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.

I just don’t feel comfortable today.

I don’t want to be in the picture.

I’ll do it when I feel better about myself.

And before we realize what’s happening, we can find ourselves waiting to feel differently about our bodies before allowing ourselves to participate in our lives fully.

I used to think recovery meant confidence would come first.

That eventually I would feel comfortable enough.

Healed enough.

At peace enough with my body.

And then I would live.

But recovery has taught me something different.

Sometimes confidence doesn’t come first.

Presence does.

This week on Lift the Shame: The Podcast, I’m talking about the swimsuit I couldn’t put on—and what that ordinary moment eventually taught me about visibility, body shame, and the memories I almost missed while waiting to feel differently about myself.

Because our children aren’t waiting for us to have different bodies before they make memories with us.

They remember the water.

The popsicles.

The sunscreen.

The laughter.

Being held.

Being watched.

Being loved.

And maybe we deserve to be inside those memories, too.

You can listen to the full episode in the podcast player above.

🌿 A Gentle Invitation

I wonder if there’s somewhere shame has been quietly asking you to disappear.

Maybe it’s the pool.

Maybe it’s the photograph.

Maybe it’s the vacation.

Maybe it’s something else entirely.

You don’t have to force yourself into confidence.

You don’t have to suddenly love your body.

You don’t have to make the fear disappear.

Maybe the invitation is simply to ask:

What is one small way I could choose presence here?

Not perfectly.

Not fearlessly.

Just enough to let yourself be part of the memory.

With you,

Crystal 💛

P.S. If body shame has been asking you to sit on the sidelines of your own life, you don’t have to navigate that alone. Lift the Shame is my free monthly support space for mothers navigating eating disorder recovery through motherhood. There’s room for the parts of you that are still healing here, too. 💛

[Join Lift the Shame]