Cellulite. The cottage cheese curse. The dimpled demon that women are told to wage war against. For years, I hid mine under long pants, carefully chosen swimsuits, and a general air of avoidance. Summer dressing was a strategic operation, designed to minimize any glimpse of those dreaded bumps. Then, one scorching summer day, I just…couldn’t anymore. It was too hot, too uncomfortable, too exhausting to keep hiding. I put on shorts. And walked outside.
Nothing exploded. No one shrieked in horror. The world kept turning. In fact, most people were probably too busy sweating to even notice my legs. That day was a revelation. The fear of exposing my cellulite was far worse than the reality. The imagined judgment was just that – imagined.
This wasn’t a sudden embrace of cellulite as a “beautiful” thing. It was a realization that it’s normal. Most women have it. It’s not a disease or a moral failing. It’s just skin. Stopping the hiding game was liberating. It freed up mental energy, wardrobe options, and a whole lot of self-consciousness. Now, I still have cellulite. It’s part of my legs. And honestly, I barely think about it anymore. Turns out, the biggest problem with cellulite isn’t the cellulite itself; it’s the shame we’re taught to feel about it. Let it go. Wear the shorts. Live your life. No one cares about your cellulite as much as you think they do.