The other day our dear friends Amy and Annie invited us to celebrate the 4th of July at their house.  The email stated that it would be an afternoon pool party with a small group of friends, perhaps some poker and then ultimately we would end the evening watching the fireworks at CBS studios across the street from their complex.  I have lived in Los Angeles for four years now and have done my darnedest to avoid swimming at a pool party.  Luckily for me, rarely do people actually swim at a pool party.  Sure some parents jump in with their kids, but there are usually at least a handful of people who have the same look that I do.  Our eyes seem to say I’d have to be on fire to jump in that pool!

My earliest memories are of avoiding public swimming.  One summer at Camp Sloane we had to all wait on line to take a swim test.  I think the idea was that we were first time campers and they needed to asses how well each of us could swim.

“Look, Dougall has more rolls than a Deli!”  Mark quipped.

Mark’s friends laughed at his comment, and I started to feel nauseous.  I wanted to run away,  or call my parents to come pick me up.  I’d much rather be home watching an episode of the Bionic Woman, she’d never judge me for being overweight!  With everyone watching, I knew that I needed to say something back to Mark.

“You know, I have a disease”,  I calmly replied.
“Re-really?”  Mark stammered.

As I stared into Mark’s now vulnerable eyes, I started to ramble about my new “disease.”

“You see, my body creates too much blood.”

The cool kids stopped smirking and got very quiet so they could listen.

“When I am at home I have to see a doctor once a week, and they drain my blood so that I can be a normal weight.  But because we are at camp, they don’t have the proper equipment so I keep gaining blood; not weight.  It’s really painful, but I don’t care.  I just want to be at camp and have fun like the other kids.”   He embarrassed me so I figured he deserved an extra helping of guilt.

“Wow I had no idea, how much do you weigh now?”  Mark asked. I keenly remember being the first of my friends to weigh 100 pounds.  Everyone else weighed around 75.
“Right now I weigh 100 pounds.  But after they drain me I weigh around 75.”

For the rest of that summer if I was made fun of, my new friends would gently explain to others that I had a disease.  I’d pop another donut in the mess hall and look their way in disgust; for I was living with a rare –VERY rare — blood disease.

As you can see, my avoidance of pool parties started as far back as I can remember.  I think that because I was overweight and insecure as a child, it’s difficult for me to let go of that identity. As an adult, I actually love to swim.  Oceans, lakes, or pools, I find the water to be a very calming and spiritual experience.  If David and I are on vacation, I swim without reservation.  Why?  Because I feel safe with him.  There is something that triggers me when I am invited to swim at a party with people I have just met.  Perhaps I am not ready for them to see my vulnerability?

“I’m packing a bag for Amy and Annie’s.  Should I throw in your swim suit?”  David asks.
“I’m only jumping in that pool if I can wear a Burka. Do you really think everyone will be swimming?”
“No, I probably won’t swim either.”

David grabs the keys and his bag containing his suit and a towel.  For a brief second a voice in my head says, just bring your bathing suit.  Don’t be weak.

We open the front door and the gush of hot air from outside is startling.  Before I can even fasten my seat belt, the heat is causing each of us to perspire.

When we arrive at our destination we are greeted by Annie at the door.

“The boys are here!”  Annie calls back to her friends.

Annie is adorable.  She is wearing a pair of exercise shorts over her suit, flip flops on her feet, and chic Marc Jacobs sunglasses.  We hug immediately and I can’t help but look into the kitchen where the rest of her friends are standing.  Of course they are in their bathing suits.  It’s 95 degrees in the desert!

My heart is racing as I walk into the kitchen.  Technically speaking these are new friends of ours.  David and I double date with Amy and Annie a few times a month, and each time our friendship gets deeper.  I trust them.  They see me and I try to see them.  Not physically, but emotionally and spiritually.  We meet their other friends and I am very aware that these are their close friends; we have been invited into their circle and I feel grateful.

“You boys brought your suits right?”  Annie asks.
“People are swimming? Is everyone swimming?  Are you swimming?”  I ask Amy.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  Amy replies.

I hear David in the background talking and I can’t quite concentrate. My inner 8 year old overweight child starts to panic.  It doesn’t seem like the right time to explain my faux blood disease to anyone.  Within a flash I am alone with Annie in the kitchen. She is looking right at me with that I see you look.  And she has an I care about you expression in her eyes.

“Come on.  It’s hot.  Let’s all go for a swim.”
“Ugh, can I hate you for it?”

She wraps her arm around me and says “If you need to.”

Ok. Ok. Ok.  I will get my bathing suit.

I hop in our Prius to make the trek back to our house and I feel sad.  I don’t like when my issues get in the way of my life experience.  I have friends and family who won’t leave the house because of anxiety.  I know people who won’t challenge themselves with their career, or avoid public speaking, or dozens of other ways that people’s insecurities manifest.  Right now my not wanting to swim in front of people seems pathetic.  My phone beeps and I look down to a text message from David.  “I love you,”  it says.

God that man knows me.

Within about 15 minutes I am back to Amy and Annie’s, suit and towel in hand.  I can hear everyone in the pool laughing and talking while I climb the steps of their complex.  Walking through the gate I lean over the railing.

“Got my suit.  I am going to go change!”

When I come out of the bathroom Amy is standing in the living room.  I don’t even have a second to examine or primp or prepare for my vulnerable moment.

She looks up to me with her sparkly blue eyes and says  “Let’s go face the pool together.”

Amy and I get down to the pool and I take a very healthy swig of my sangria.  The water is sparkling and literally begging me to come in.  Everyone is chatting and floating.  I take off my shirt and of course there is no audible gasp of disgust.  I try to realize that yes I am not ripped. But I also realize I have total Body Dysmorphic Disorder.  The only person in this moment thinking about my body, is me.  I take a breath and walk the steps into the pool.  Honestly, my worry/anxiety was gone so fast it’s almost comical.  My mind can create a block and exaggerate a fear to such an enormous level.  When I finally confront it, the rate of it dissipating is both magical and somewhat shocking.

We spent the afternoon floating in the pool sipping sangria and gabbing.  The water felt cool and refreshing on such a hot day.  We talked about religion, TV, corn dogs (which by the way are delicious), movies, relationships and countless other topics.  The night ended with us all poolside laying down on lounge chairs looking up into the sky watching a fantastic fireworks display.  With each burst of color, I let the light ignite passion inside my soul.  I was grateful to have new friends that I felt safe with, and promised myself that I would spend the year diving into life.

For some people, my pool issues may be relatable.  If not, I ask that you take a look at your own personal “pool” issue.  Perhaps you haven’t seen close family and friends in awhile due to a fear of flying?  Or maybe fear is keeping you from making new friends or dating.  Perhaps you didn’t make a toast at a loved one’s wedding due to shyness.

Typically most human beings have some fear that gets in the way of life experience.  Our minds often try to protect us from danger by using fear.  The lesson is to remember that your mind can also trick you into sitting on the sidelines of life.  My advice is to get over it and just jump in the pool.  It feels great once you’re in the water.  Much love to you all.