Oh No! The ‘Summer Me’ Is a Real Bitch

All year, I wanted to be ready for the ‘Summer Me’ to show herself off. I put in the work—pilates, yoga, hot yoga, yoga that wasn’t supposed to be hot but ended up being hot because I wore too many layers and was too embarrassed to start stripping in front of the hot, worldly yoga instructor.

When June hit, I admired all of my hard work in a full-length mirror at Forever 21. My reflection gazed back at me and said, “You finally have a waist and this is where you take us? That’s cool—I always wanted to look like a teenager whose dad didn’t love her.”

The ‘Summer You’ isn’t just about being fit and fun—it’s about listening to yourself, too. The person who knows what you need most is you, after all. And ‘Summer Me’ said I should try not to look like a needy whore and buy something that says, “I have a degree in science, but it’s a soft-science so you won’t think I’m smarter than you.” So I went to Talbots.

Next, I stopped by Victoria’s Secret to treat myself to sexy lingerie—ooh la la! “We’re not made of money,” ‘Summer Me’ scolded, “you’ll want to stick to the gross underwear drawers with the trashy words printed on the butt. Plus, let’s be real, you didn’t lose that much weight. Who’s going to realistically see these? I’m good but not that good.”

Depressed, I decided to snag a smoothie from Robeks, but ‘Summer Me’ had something to say about that too. “You think smoothies are actually healthy? That’s cute. Maybe you think that yoga instructor thinks about you too — he doesn’t, in case you were confused.”

Please, please let summer end. ‘Summer Me’ is a real b*tch and I need this to be over.

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