“Bikini? At Your Age?” – Oh, Just Watch Me.

There comes a time in a woman’s life—somewhere between your second chin and your hormonal belly swell—when the act of putting on a bikini feels less like fashion and more like a feminist statement.

I’m 45. I own a few bikinis. And yes, I wear them. In public. With people around.

And you know what? Sometimes I even walk in them. Past teenagers. Past men. Past mirrors. Bold, brave, slightly hunched (because my back hurts), but still—walking.

Let’s talk logistics.Putting on a bikini at this age is a full-body negotiation. First, there’s the “tuck and lift” strategy. Belly into the high-waisted bottoms. Boobs into the triangle top to keep them in place (the push up does not work anymore).

Then there's the mental checklist:

• Have I shaved everything?

• Is this bikini bottom giving me a camel toe?

• Do I give a shit? (Working on it.)

Once you're in, it's a psychological game.

You head to the sea with confidence… until a 22-year-old strolls by, glowing like she’s been airbrushed by angels, her butt so perky it could be used as a shelf. You glance down at your own thighs—much softer, sun-speckled—and you remind yourself: SHE HASN’T LIVED THROUGH ANYTHING YET.

She’s never bought a tightening creamShe’s never hosted a birthday party while ovulating and sobbing.She’s never pulled a muscle while sneezing.

You, my friend, are a warrior.

And wearing a bikini at 45+? That’s not vanity. That’s courage.

So no, I’m not “beach body ready” by Instagram standards. But I’m beach body ready by my standards:

1. I have a body.

2. I am at the beach.

Pass the SPF 50 and let the boobs fall where they may!