Loving life in a bikini???

The very first swimsuit I remember, I was maybe five or six. It was a white one-piece with blue and red fish all over it. I loved it because it was loose enough to fit an air bubble in my belly, which I thought was so fun.

As I got older, my days in swimsuits got fewer and farther between. We still went to the lake almost every summer, but it wasn’t until about fifth or sixth grade that I started feeling self-conscious. Cue the board short trend. I loved board shorts because they covered more—and I was starting to grow hair on my bikini line, which was honestly terrifying. That’s when I started thinking more about how I looked than how much fun I was having.

Then came eighth grade. We had a class field trip to Wings and Waves Waterpark. I remember dreading it for months. The thought of showing up in a swimsuit around all my classmates? Actual nightmare fuel. I stressed about it all year. I was convinced everyone would stare, judge, or somehow notice every little insecurity I carried. But when the day finally came, something unexpected happened—we just had fun. No one cared what I looked like in a swimsuit. No one was watching me as closely as I feared. We were too busy laughing, racing down slides, and getting tossed around by wave pools. That day stuck with me—not just because it was fun, but because it was the first time I realized how much of my anxiety was rooted in me. Not the people around me.

In high school, I started wearing swimsuits more. We lived in the Dominican Republic for a summer, and I still spent time at the lake. By then I had my grooming routine figured out, which made things easier, but I was still self-conscious about my body. I never fully felt relaxed in a bikini.

Then, when I was 18, I moved to Hawaii for school. I had no idea what I was in for. During the first week, I got invited to a beach party. I had a bikini I thought was cute, but I was definitely nervous—it was one of the first social events I’d gone to since moving. When I got there, every girl was in a thong bikini. I was so caught off guard. I remember thinking, Where do you even buy suits this small? I’d always shopped at the mall and never saw anything like that.

So what did I do? I went to the bathroom and turned my bikini bottoms backwards. I liked that there was more coverage in the front, but I was definitely a little uncomfortable with my butt out. Still, something about it felt exciting. Like I was trying on a new version of myself—one that didn’t need to hide.

As I started spending more time at the beach and working at a surf store, I experimented with more bikini styles. I was learning what I liked—not what I was supposed to wear, but what felt good. What felt me. That’s when my love affair with skimpy bikinis officially began.
The thing is—full coverage bottoms always ended up stuck in my butt anyway. So why not just lean in?
Plus, the tan lines were unbeatable. (And yes, I still take pride in how tan my butt gets.)

More than anything, I loved that I was owning my body. There wasn’t a style I didn’t wear because of my insecurities. No one could tell me I needed to cover up. In Hawaii, it wasn’t even a big deal—this was a common style, even at family events. Most bums were out and no one was pressed about it.

But when I moved back home to Oregon and summer came around, I had to go to Target and grab a full-coverage bottom. The style just wasn’t something people were familiar with. I wanted to be respectful—but I was also kind of resentful. It felt like I had to alter what I was comfortable in to make other people comfortable, and that didn’t sit right with me.

Now that I’m back living in the Dominican Republic, I’ve found a new rhythm. My guiding principle is simple: honor my comfort. In Hawaii, I was focused solely on my own experience. These days, I’m more aware of the people around me. I have a family now, I’m around lots of kids, and I move through different cultural spaces every day. But I don’t let that awareness turn into shame or restriction. I show up in ways that feel true to me, and I trust that how I carry myself speaks louder than what I’m wearing.

Something I always come back to is that day in eighth grade at Wings and Waves. I would’ve never guessed that I’d end up living a life where I spend more time in bikinis than regular clothes—and loving it. My body has gone through so many changes over the years and will continue to, but there’s still nothing better than getting home from the beach, crispy and stoked, confident in myself and so content with life.