For some of you, this title probably sounds stupid.
“So, she’s wearing shorts? She lives in Florida. It’s July. What’s the big deal?”
It’s a BIG. DAMN. DEAL., people. Because it’s the first time in years (decades?) that I’ve truly felt good enough in my own skin, and in my own body, to wear shorts.
I’m the girl that normally wears jeans even when it’s 100 degrees out because:
“I don’t wear shorts. I just don’t.”
That’s what I’ve said to anyone who has raised an eyebrow at my choice of jeans in a sea of shorts and skirts. Because it was the truth. I just never felt comfortable baring so much of my lower body.
Even Lucas was surprised when he saw me come down the stairs this morning.
“But you don’t wear shorts! You just don’t!”
Outside of running, this may be the second or third time he’s ever seen me wearing something like this, and frankly…I think he was kind of proud of me.
I’m proud of myself. These legs carry me over miles of sweaty, interval running. They’ve helped me pedal through multiple triathlons. They helped me push a person out into the world. They’re strong, meaty and thick and THEY ARE AMAZING.
So, yeah. I wear shorts. I just do.