The Butterfly Temptress

As we sat at lunch at a local restaurant (courtesy of gift cards from a friend) I looked at the young women waiting on the patrons around us. Not a single one of them was anything less than a size 16/18. Most of them wore their t-shirts snug and their jeans slung low on their wide hips. Someone else may have looked at them and objected to the fact that they displayed their curves so proudly, but not me.

I watched as they wiggled and squirmed their way between crowded tables and too tight walkways with trays heavy with food. None of them tugged or pulled at their clothing once their trays were empty. They smiled and it reached their eyes. They walked with a purpose and with a femininity that left me absolutely in awe.

When had I lost those abilities?

At one point I was brave enough to venture out in a two-piece swimsuit and lunge lazily by a pool in a crowded apartment complex. I tossed my hair and batted my eyelashes. I didn’t hesitate to smile and show the world that I was a chubby girl that had a lot going for her. I wore my work outfit of snug khakis and a v-neck shirt proudly, taking care to adjust my breasts so that they were displayed at the best angle. I celebrated my curves!

Where is it exactly that it all fell by the wayside?

I don’t know the answer. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment or instance. I only know that as I watched the absolutely beautiful young women be beautiful young women, I wanted to tell them to hang on to the moments of self-awareness and comfort in their own skin that youth afforded them.

So, on the way out I told them that they were gorgeous. I then told them to keep on smiling and showing their curves in their cute outfits. With a wink and a smile I said “You wear it well!”