Here's the thing about body positivity:

The journey to self-love and self-acceptance sometimes feels easy and smooth-you're really feeling yourself in that dress, your hair looks perfect, you get a compliment from that cool girl across the room that intimidated you with her perfect style.

And then there's the times that feel like major roadblocks in the journey to self-acceptance. Where you feel crazy that you let yourself leave the house like that, you feel like a refrigerator in comparison to the people around you, life feels terrible and you're not sure how you'll ever look at a photo of yourself again.

Initially, this shoot felt like one of those second occasions.

Back in August, our blogger gal pal gang had agreed we were going out to the beach for a swimsuit shoot. It didn't take me long after saying it would be a great idea to realize what I perceived as the major flaw in this plan: I did not have a body I felt looked good in a swimsuit. I preach all day about loving yourself, loving your body as it is, and there was me.

Freaking.

The.

Fuck.

OUT.

About the thought of being in a swimsuit in photos next to three women who I have always perceived somewhere (not so far) in the back of my mind as much prettier and with better bodies than me. (They're probably going to hit me when they read this. Sorry ladies.)

About feeling not good enough to put a photo of my body in a bathing suit on the Internet.

About my multiple weird moles, the stretch marks on my thighs, the acne on my chest and face that wouldn't go away in the days leading up to the shoot.

The day of the shoot dawned and I was super nervous. I joked and laughed as usual, but I felt so scared to take off my coverup when we finally hit sand at Chesapeake Beach. I was scared to see what I would look like in photos. I was scared I'd look too pale, too chubby, too everything next to the gorgeous women who were with me. I was afraid I wouldn't measure up.

But the good news is this. Those roadblocks? They'll teach you a thing or two about yourself, and maybe you'll come out the other side thinking different.

Because here's what really happened on the morning of the shoot:

Once my coverup was off, my friends whistled. I blushed. We all complimented each other's suits. We turned on 90's pop. And then we started to take photos. I got behind the camera and shot Alice. We played. We laughed. And for an hour and a half, I was able to completely forget the thoughts I'd been thinking about my body and the comparisons I'd been making in my head. I had so much fun that I didn't want to leave when it was time for us to go, even though I was sunburned and tired.

I won't say that I felt like my body looked perfect. In fact, I'll be honest-I winced at a few of the photos, a leftover residual of the feeling that I didn't quite deserve to put a photo of myself in a bathing suit for everyone to see. I felt like maybe I should just hand pick what made me look "skinniest." But I stepped back and, when I looked at these to put them up for this post, I didn't feel quite the same anymore.

No, my body isn't perfect.

No, it will never be "perfect."

But when is enjoying life qualified about whether I look "perfect" in a bathing suit?

I had a great time. I love my friends, who aren't just beautiful-they're unique, kind, intelligent, creative, driven, and funny people who genuinely work to make their corner of the world a better place. They're people I consider friends, who I love and who show me love in return. Their endless support and kindness have helped me to thrive in this community, and have taught me how to succeed in return. (And yes, they all look killer in bathing suits, too.)

Should we all work harder to love our body? Of course.

But we also shouldn't let our continual evolution along the path stop us from enjoying the everyday moments with friends, good music, and a morning at the beach.

xoxo

Carisa