I WORE THE RED SWIMSUIT

Dear Delyara, After my mastectomy, I avoided mirrors, changing rooms, and swimming pools. Before cancer, I swam every Sunday. My therapist asked me what I missed most about my old body. I said the water. So we made a plan. First, I bought a swimsuit with a high neckline. I returned it because I hated it. Then I ordered a red one—the kind I would have chosen before surgery. I wore it around the house for ten minutes at a time. Later, I stood near the community pool without entering. Today, I went in. I kept a towel wrapped around me until the last possible second. My scar was visible. One side of the suit sat flatter than the other. Nobody screamed. Nobody stared for more than a passing glance. The water held me exactly as it had before. I swam four slow laps. In the middle of the pool, I began crying inside my goggles. I had spent a year believing my body had become a place I could no longer live beautifully. Today, it carried me through water.