Hi. Welcome to Bloom Anywhere. I'm Gwen Moran, a writer, editor, author, and problem-solver. My goal is to share information, ideas, and resources to help you overcome obstacles, reach your goals, and get more joy out of life, even when things are messy. Thanks for joining me. (If you got this from a friend, subscribe here: www.bloomanywhere.com.)
On any given weekday morning, I may be walking around in my bathing suit in front of a bunch of strangers.
No, that’s not a recurring nightmare or stress dream. But it started that way.
Roughly three years ago, I began swimming regularly. I started in my generous friends' beautiful—and private—backyard pool. I needed to get more active and swimming was my favorite exercise. At first, I could only make it a few laps before getting winded. But it wasn’t long before I was swimming an hour at a time.
The Disease Called Fat
For me, that’s a big deal. I live with a progressive, painful condition called lipedema. Dubbed “the disease called fat,” lipedema is an adipose tissue disorder found almost exclusively in women. It causes metabolically inactive fat to deposit on the lower half of the body and, sometimes, in the arms. It's disfiguring and the only “cure” is surgical. There are four stages. Mine is Stage IV.
Many doctors write off lipedema in a patient as extra weight or obesity, so the condition is underdiagnosed. Often, both exist in a patient at the same time. Researchers disagree on lipedema's prevalence, but one study estimated that as many as one in 10 women may have it. Many doctors I’ve encountered don’t even know what lipedema is. (This is exhausting and a story for another day.)
By the time I was diagnosed a few years ago, the condition was affecting my ability to walk long distances and causing other complications. But swimming alleviated the pain, made me stronger, and helped me be much more active. It also did wonders for my mental health. So, when the weather turned cooler that September, I knew I couldn’t give it up. I joined a local fitness club with an indoor swimming pool.
Taking the Plunge
In the days leading up to my first swim at the indoor pool, I was consumed with worry. The world is often unwelcoming to those of us who live in larger bodies. I didn’t even wear a bathing suit in front of most family members and friends. How would I do so in front of people I didn’t know? The worry crept into my thoughts, distracting me during the day and causing me to lose sleep at night.
I’m not going to tell you it was easy. But, on that first day, I draped a long towel over my shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked out of the locker room hallway to the pool area. I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I headed to the lifeguard to check in for my lane time. He barely looked up as he said, “Lane three.”
I got in the pool, made my way to my lane, put on my goggles, and pushed off the wall. The salt water was warm and felt so good on my skin. The long lanes gave my workout new intensity. I fell into a rhythm and started my “gratitude laps”—meditating on one thing for which I’m grateful while swimming each length of the pool. (This gets harder toward the end of the swim when I’m also gasping for breath. At that point, I'm mostly grateful that the swim is almost over.)
If vulnerability is a superpower, being in a bathing suit in front of strangers so often should make me an honorary member of the Avengers. And there have been some uncomfortable moments. Some people stare at my legs. One day, a pair of young swimmers pointed at me and laughed.
I forgive them. And I’m certainly not going to let them stop me.
Perhaps if more people like me put on our bathing suits in public, it wouldn’t be unusual to see, and others might be a little kinder. To be fair, most of the people at the pool range from indifferent to warm. I’ve made some new friends. Now, the lifeguards say, “Hi, Gwen!” And I make eye contact with everyone. This is my pool.
The Possibilities Beyond Fear
In addition to the physical and mental health benefits swimming has given me, I've also gained greater peace and confidence in myself. I’m the self-proclaimed “world’s slowest swimmer,” and that’s okay. I’m doing something that makes me happy, getting a little better over time, and reaping all those other rewards. I'm not saying that's the meaning of life, but I'd be willing to bet it's part of the equation.
Think about the hard thing you may be avoiding—the one causing you worry or fear. What are the possibilities waiting on the other side of those obstacles? What could happen if you faced that fear and just did what you want to do? My bathing suit and I are here to tell you that enduring the uncomfortable can pay off in remarkable and unexpected ways. I'd love to hear about your progress if you try. Reach out at connect@bloomanywhere.com.
Go get it.
Bloom Drops
Bits of everything I want to share with you.
Loving: I’m late to the party on bone conduction headphones, but I love how they let you listen to music, podcasts, and books and also hear ambient noise when you’re out and about. (A good summary of pros and cons here.) I splurged on a high-end brand so I could wear them in the pool, but there are cheaper options, too.
Excited about: “Ted Lasso” is returning, and all is right with the world.
Giving back: The National Archives could use your help if you can read cursive. The nation’s record-keeper seeks volunteers to transcribe historical documents and make them more accessible. Sign up to be a citizen archivist here.
