Embracing the Ripples of Imperfection: Rediscovering the Pool

Trigger Warning: this article mentions the topics of body image, body-dysmorphia an period shaming.

In the embrace of water, I discovered a sanctuary from the tumultuous currents of life—a place where worries dissolved, and tranquility reigned. As a child, I embraced swimming with unwavering enthusiasm, even treading into the waters of semi-competitive realms. However, as the tide of my teenage years rolled in, self-consciousness about my evolving body led me to reluctantly step away from the pool. Now, standing on the shores of my twenties, I’ve made a choice to reconnect with the childhood passion that once brought me so much joy.

Part I: Water Baby

I smelt of Chlorine from a young age. Every weekend, I would go with my family to the council-run pool most weekends with its cracked tiles and unfortunate mural of Ariel in reception. I have fond memories of my imagining as a deep sea diver finding pennies and the occasional rouge plaster. I have less fond memories of the L’oreal Kids No Tears shampoo which I was lathered in after.

It wasn’t long before my parents started me with swimming lessons once a week after nursery school. After a few years, I completed my Kellogg’s badges and I began to swim in the competitive realm, fueled by the desire to achieve greatness in the pool. Competing and surpassing personal bests were my primary goals, but they were accompanied by the weight of expectations and the fear of failure. In those days, swimming wasn’t just an activity; it became a metric of my self-worth. The pursuit of perfection overshadowed the joy of the water, and as I grew older, my self-consciousness about my body only intensified.

Part II: Jaws

Of course, I was not the only one in my swim team who struggled with body image whilst competitively swimming. As I entered my pre-teen years, I couldn’t help but notice the changes occurring in the bodies of my older teammates. They would rush away from the pool at the end of training, seeking the shelter of cubicles, as if a secret metamorphosis was taking place. Although, for myself and some of my fellow swimmers, BRUCE did not finally emerge from the shallows until we hit our teens. And with pun entirely intended, he smelt blood.

Almost overnight, some of my friends began to disappear from galas, and eventually, they drifted away from the team altogether. Obviously, not all of those who menstruated left swimming, however, whilst growing up in the 2010s, I like many young people experienced period shame from friends and family. This is a narrative that is not just unique to swimming with a 2016 Dove study found that 79 percent of girls opt out of an activity. However, when my first “Shark Week” finally arrived (and yes, I promise, no more puns), I, too, found myself embarking on a prolonged hiatus from swimming.

Part III: Embracing Imperfection

As part of my spiritual journey, I have been trying to uncover what brings me joy and I began thinking about the solace and freedom I experienced in the pool. Contemplating the solace and liberation I’ve found in the pool, I’ve realised that my recent aquatic escapades have enabled me to cast off the competitive currents of my youth and delve into the realm of leisurely swimming. In this tranquil expanse, the only race I’m engaged in is the one against my own nagging self-doubt.

While I am try to be aware of my privilege to swim especially as a non-disabled white woman, my relationship with my body mirrors the complex struggles faced by many. It was a viewing of the recent Barbie movie that triggered my reflections on the unrealistic size-zero portrayals of women that permeated my upbringing.

Gradually, I’ve come to recognize that this airbrushed ideal of the human form has surreptitiously lingered in the recesses of my subconscious. And like many, I regularly digest these ideals from social media. The Health and Social Care (HSC) committee recently called for a law requiring all online commercial content to carry a logo explaining how the image has been filtered or altered, noting changes to body proportions and skin tone.

The HSC states there was large “evidence about the potential harm from online content that promotes an idealised, often doctored and unrealistic, body image and the link to developing low self-esteem and related mental health conditions”. And with the emergence of hyper-realistic images through AI, the ability for us to deduce fake images seems near impossible. Therefore, we are no longer just comparing ourselves to 90s catwalk models but literally unreal depictions of the human body.

On my first trip to my local swimming pool, I entered the changing rooms for a ‘ladies evening swim’ , and I was confronted with a multitude of bodies, each boasting its own unique form, dimensions, capabilities, cultural backgrounds, and ages.

A sharp contrast to the impeccably polished ‘women’ who have dominated my screens and social media feeds over the years was palpable. A wave of anxiety flooded my body as it occurred to me that I needed to get undressed. My reflection in the mirror beckoned an inner voice that murmured, “You don’t look like a ‘typical’ swimmer anymore,” and “What if the other women judge you?”

Those murmurs of self-critique are not easy to silence, yet with the passage of time and my resurgent ardor for swimming, their volume is gradually being turned down. When I swim, I allow the water caress my skin, listen to soft rhythm of my breath, and relishing the freedom of floating weightlessly.

I have begun to respect what my body was capable of and truly enjoy feeling its movement within the water

Returning to leisurely swimming has allowed me to embrace my imperfections with less judgement. It has served as a poignant reminder that my body’s unique shape and size don’t define my abilities or my worth. The water embraced me just as I was, without demanding perfection or comparisons.

Part IV: Unraveling the Notion of Over-Achieving

By leisurely swimming, I have learnt that over-achieving takes on a different meaning. It’s not about outperforming others or trying to impress those cheering you on, but rather surpassing my own limitations and nurturing a positive relationship with my body.

When I was swimming competitively, over-achieving was associated with reaching the pinnacle of success, securing podium finishes, and breaking records. I now recognise that this thought process has bled into other areas of my life. Now when I have had a hard week at work and I am going to blow off some steam in the pool, I occasionally get flashbacks to the sounds of my parents voices cheering me on as I fly in and out of the water. And whilst my accomplishments in swimming were commendable, they don’t define the true essence of swimming. The pressure to be the best can overshadow the pleasure of the journey itself. This is true not just in my pursuit of the hobby but in all walks of life.

“Freedom wanders in the landscape of the mind, and nourishes the deepest yearnings of the soul.”
– Beth Kempton

With each stroke, I feel a renewed sense of liberation and empowerment. Leisurely swimming has become my sanctuary, a space where self-consciousness evaporated, and confidence surged. For me, self-acceptance was the key to finding joy in the water once more. As I float on the surface, I let the water carry away my insecurities, and in return, it gifts me with the freedom to simply be myself. In the water, I am content, imperfections and all.