ChicCritique

I have to say:

I was more than a little terrified of going to Vegas with my brother’s 24 year-old, super-fit, super adorable fiancé and her 24 year-old friends, along with my always naturally thin, child-free sister.

I tried to calm myself by shopping into oblivion (as I do).

One-piece swimsuit after one-piece swimsuit…cover-ups galore…maxi skirts and light sweaters…

My self-consciousness from all of that…my (extreme) nervousness at leaving the boys (only my second time spending even one night away from them!)…my anxiety was on high by the time I boarded the plane.

-But I’m fortunate in that I very rarely have a bad time. I let go, and enjoyed myself, and instead of the layers that I’d packed, found myself simplifying.

A tank or t-shirt dress and a great pair of shoes (plus the ubiquitous Spanx) for night, and a swimsuit (or two) in the cobalt color I kill in, for day.

DONE.

And I felt kind of fantastic. Maybe it’s the six months worth of quality gym time logged, or the fact that even with all the stunning and nearly-naked, modelesque girls everywhere, hot guys chose to spend large portions of their nights with married-old-me (and we’re talking HOT: a smokin’ blond Brit (and I don’t even like blonds usually), a gorgeous and FUNNY! mixed guy from Chicago that my sister tried to steal, and then the single most attractive boy I’ve ever met - we’re talking 100% baby-making quality in the form of well-traveled, blue-blooded Virginian lawyer-to-be with a killer jawline-ATTRACTIVE) (seriously - I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud of myself for those pulls)…but I felt confident, and even sexy, and just good.

And now I’m home, and it’s too easy to slip back into my momminess and self-conscious, cardigans and layers…but I’m putting up a fight (HI - I just posted pictures of myself in a swimsuit!).