I have always hated swimming in cold water.
I am a strong swimmer, thanks to my mother, who never learned to swim, requiring that I take swimming lessons through Junior Life Savers.
But I was always freezing cold.
A little girl without body fat, my knees knocked, my teeth chattered as I sat hunched beneath my tiny no-nonsense towel on foggy Bay Area mornings to get into an unheated pool.
It became part of my identity: “I’m not a cold-water girl.”
I was a strong swimming who didn't really love the water.
But recently that story changed.
Wearing my red bathing suit, I waded into the Mediterranean Sea.
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