“Samantha! Are you naked again?”
I looked up to see Ashley towering over me on the side of the hot tub. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or horrified.
“I’m caught!” I gasped. I was desperately trying to free the strap from the nozzle of one of the jets in the hot tub.
“You certainly are. Samantha, it seems to me that you can’t keep your clothes on. Alex told me you did the same thing to her in the locker room. I’m not judging you, but this is just not that kind of spa.” He shook his head, but he had a big grin on his face.
“No Ashley, you don’t understand. My bathing suit is caught!”
He crossed his arms. “Likely story.”
“I mean it. Please help me!”
I tried to wriggle free, but my bathing suit strap was twisted. I would either have to take my entire suit off or spend the time trying to rip the strap off completely. I didn’t want to do either, as I’d finally managed to cover up.
“Are you really?” He frowned and leaned down to take a look. His fingertips tickled along my back as he reached for the strap that was stuck on the jet. He began tugging at it.
“Ashley, what are you doing to Samantha?” Amanda came walking over with a concerned frown. “You aren’t supposed to fraternize with the clients.”
Her shrill voice drew the attention of everyone in the pool area. I closed my eyes in an attempt to disappear.
“It’s not what it looks like, Amanda.” Ashley was still tugging at the strap. “She’s really stuck.”
“What?” Amanda leaned closer to take a look just as Ashley was standing up.
The two collided, and since Ashley was already half bent over, he fell forward and splashed right into the hot tub—more specifically right into my lap. I reacted by trying to catch him and ended up with him cradled in my arms. It was a rather odd circumstance, but I was pretty sure it still counted as snuggling.
“Oops! I’m sorry, Samantha. This day just keeps getting worse for you!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that exactly.” I tried to stop myself from grinning like a fool.
Amanda helped Ashley up out of the hot tub, but I was still stuck.
“I guess we’ll just have to get some scissors and cut her loose.” Amanda started to walk away.
I felt like such a spectacle, and I really knew that it was all my fault. I hated to cause such a big problem. I had started the day out hoping to be brave enough to be loving to my body and proud of who I was and how I looked. I was ending it cowering in a hot tub hoping not to be noticed.
“Wait.” I took a deep breath. “Can you just bring me a robe?”
“Sure.” Ashley walked over to a small closet where several fluffy white terry-cloth robes were stored. He carried it back to me.
“There’s no need to destroy the suit because of me. It’s not like I haven’t spent most of my day naked.” I offered a smile.
My heart pounded as I began to tug down the other strap of the bathing suit.
Chapter 10
I didn’t even ask anyone to look away. I didn’t want to be ashamed. I no longer wanted to hide my body.
I pulled off the swimsuit quickly and stepped out of the hot tub. I didn’t dwell on the fact that I was naked. I just accepted that I was. Ashley draped the robe over my shoulders. I tied the belt around my waist. That was all it took.
Ashley reached into the hot tub and pulled the bathing suit free.
“I’m so sorry for the problems you had today.” Amanda frowned. “I’d like to offer you another spa day, free of charge.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I think I’m done with spas.” I laughed a little. “I did get exactly what I needed today, though.”
“It was nice meeting you, Samantha. Any time you want another massage, let me know.” Ashley smiled at me.
I laughed as I walked away from them. I was ready to get as far from the spa as possible.
I’d been brave. I’d accepted and embraced my body. But I’d also had my face set on fire and hot water shooting in places it didn’t belong.
I changed and was about to leave the robe hanging in the locker room, when Alex stepped in.
“Hi, there.”
I looked at her with some hesitation. She had been quite rude to me before.
“I was just leaving.”
“I heard what happened to you. I only wish I was as confident about my body as you are. I would have been too embarrassed to do that.”
I was surprised by her words.
“Well, I’m trying to learn to accept my body as beautiful and natural no matter what size it is.”
“I think that’s really great.” She smiled. “Please keep the robe—compliments of Spring Spa.”
I didn’t argue. I grabbed the robe and headed for the door. I was feeling a little better about how I’d spent my day. It might have been disaster after disaster, but in the end, it was exactly what I needed.
As I stepped out of the spa, I found Max waiting for me. I was still laughing at the memory of Ashley landing in my lap in the hot tub.
“Sammy? What’s so funny?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, but I want to hear about it.” Max looked at me curiously.
“It was a rough day.”
Max shook his head. “Only you could have a rough day at a spa.”
“You have no idea.” I sighed.
He hugged me. “Hey, at least it’s over, right? I bet you’re all nice and relaxed.”
I stared back at him and considered pointing out just how stressful my spa day had been. But I didn’t want to ruin his dream. I also didn’t want to admit that I’d been nude in a hot tub and almost thrown out for sexual harassment and assault.
“It was great.”
“Hm.” He eyed me for a moment. “Something tells me I’m not getting the whole story. But all that really matters is one thing.”
“That I took a day to focus on myself?”
“That you managed to smuggle one of those robes for me.” He tugged at my bag in an attempt to look inside.
I laughed and opened up the bag to reveal the terry-cloth robe.
“Just for you, Max.”
“Wow—that you would steal for me.” He pressed his hand to his heart. “It really touches me, Sammy.”
I decided not to confess that I’d not, in fact, stolen it. After all, I’d basically stripped to get it.
“Anything for you, Max.”
“Maybe next week we should go together.”
“I don’t think so.” I shook my head. “That was my first and last spa day. I think the best way to show myself and my body love is a good book and a nice long nap.”
“Oh boy, you’re getting old.”
“So be it if I am. I’d rather be old than marinated and barbecued.” I shuddered at the thought of the facial and the hot tub.
“Something tells me that I don’t want to understand what you mean by that.”
“That’s probably a wise thought.” I nodded.
After sharing an absolutely delicious meal with Max, I headed back to my apartment. I changed into my own robe and walked over to my computer. When I sat down to update my blog, my mind spun with the events of the day. I wondered how much I could share without being more exposed than I would like.
I began typing out my experience. As I wrote, the words took on a life of their own. It was no longer about recounting the stress I’d felt, but the discovery that pampering myself had nothing to do with massages or hot tubs.
Pampering myself was about allowing myself to be me—accepting myself and even finding pride in myself. The massage was nice and the hot tub would’ve been nice, but the point was that I should be able to feel that relaxed and fulfilled on a daily basis—not just once in a great while.
By the end of writing the blog post, I felt much calmer. I felt as if I understood what lesson I’d learned from the series of mistakes I’d made throughout the day.
One thi
ng I was sure of was that, no matter what luxury I surrounded myself with, it would mean nothing if I couldn’t find a way to simply relax.
I posted my blog entry and twirled around in my chair. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was so much I had to look forward to. I didn’t need to be held back any more.
I decided that it was time for me to experience more than just an adventure. I wanted to challenge myself to go deeper—to truly expose who I was.
There were a few things in life that I was afraid of, but only one thing that I was absolutely terrified of at all times—needles and blood. It could be just blood, or it could be just needles, but the combination of the two together was the worst.
It had been a fear that had been haunting me for years.
I decided that I was going to do that next. It was on my bucket list to overcome, and with the strength that I was feeling at the moment I was ready to give it a shot.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List
14 Donate Blood
By
Lillianna Blake
Copyright © 2015 Lillianna Blake
Cover design by Beetiful Book Covers
All rights reserved.
LilliannaBlake.com
Chapter 1
When I woke up, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t often that I started my day with such a sensation of dread. My life was just as I wanted it to be—mostly. I had a neat little apartment that I’d decorated just the way I wanted. I absolutely adored my job at Fluff and Stuff. Most days I woke up eager to get going.
Ever since I’d moved on to the next item on my bucket list, I’d been feeling this nagging ache. Not everything on my bucket list was a pleasant experience. Most things that I had added to my list were a challenge for me. I wanted to be able to overcome my insecurities, but also my biggest fears.
One of the things I’d always wanted to do, but had been too terrified to even attempt, was to give blood. In theory, I loved the idea of being able to help others by donating my blood. In reality, if a nurse came near me with a needle, I was very likely to knock her out with one punch. For the sake of the medical community I’d avoided donating blood.
I had worked myself up enough numerous times: to walk into a blood drive, stick out my arm, and offer up my blood. I would get as far as the parking lot. Then I would start the car back up and drive away. I was terrified of seeing the blood.
It all began when I was in second grade. I was chasing Jimmy Bailey down the street. I wanted to kiss him. He didn’t want to kiss me. I didn’t care that he didn’t want to kiss me. I could run faster than him.
I was gaining on Jimmy when he suddenly tripped on an uneven square of sidewalk. Down he went. When he fell, he cut his knee wide open. Blood was everywhere. Jimmy was crying, so I hugged him. Which meant I got blood all over me.
By the time an adult took care of the cut, I had quite a bit of blood on me. It was all I could smell. Maybe it was the sound of Jimmy’s crying that day or the fact that it had been my determination to kiss him that had caused him to trip, or the gory sight of the cut—whatever it was that had a big impact on me that day was lasting. Ever since that moment, I couldn’t stand the sight of blood, not my own, and certainly not anyone else’s.
Once, when I was ten, I had to have blood drawn. Two nurses had to pin me down in order to draw the blood. I still managed to wriggle away. When I did, the needle that the nurse had been trying to put into my arm got wedged much deeper than it should have. It was very painful. I cried for hours, even after the blood draw was complete.
That experience sealed the deal on my absolute abhorrence of all things sharp. But that didn’t mean that I didn’t want to donate blood. It was one of those little things that anyone could do to make a difference. But my fear had stopped me every time I tried.
When I decided to live my life without limits—not the limit of my weight or the limit of my fears—I’d promised myself that I would clear every hurdle I’d ever put in front of myself. I’d cleared many since I had started my bucket list, but this was one that I knew was going to be very difficult, maybe even impossible. I had to at least try.
So, I decided that on Saturday, I would mark donating blood off my bucket list.
I thought that the best way to confront my fear was to take it outside of the traditional environment. Whenever I thought of donating blood, I thought of a sterile white room with men and women in crisp white uniforms. If I was able to donate blood in a different type of location, I might be more comfortable.
As I searched my options, I came across a mobile blood drive. A large bus went to different places and held an all-day blood drive. This weekend it was going to be just a few blocks away.
I kind of liked the idea of the bus. It would be a more relaxed environment. There would be plenty of other people there. The nurses probably wouldn’t even be in white uniforms. The website promoting the blood drive was splashed with color, and there was the allure of live bands playing at the location where the bus would be. I thought that I could definitely relax if there was good music playing.
“You can do this, Sammy.”
I forced myself to get up out of the bed.
As I dressed for the day, I tried to keep my mind focused on bright and positive things. But that gnawing in my stomach continued. I forced down a few pieces of toast and hoped that it would settle my stomach. I planned to go just before my shift at Fluff and Stuff, which was in an hour.
Each time I thought about actually walking up to the bus, my stomach lurched. I had a sinking feeling that I was not going to be able to do this. I needed a little more motivation.
Chapter 2
I sat down in front of my computer. One of the best ways that I’d found to keep me true to my bucket list was by blogging about it. On my blog, Single Wide Female, I would let my readers know what I was planning to do. That way they could hold me to it if I didn’t follow through.
I didn’t have hundreds of readers, but I had a few. I also had one who was very important to me. Blue.
Blue had a way of knowing exactly what I needed to hear to push me over the edge into taking a chance. We were a little flirty, but nothing overt. I looked forward to reading his responses and had been known on occasion to check for his messages a bit obsessively.
As I typed out my desire to accomplish the next item on my bucket list, I wondered what his reaction would be. This particular goal was not as flashy as many that I’d already fulfilled. It was something that most people did at least once—and for many, it was a regular thing.
It was a little embarrassing to me to admit my phobia. It was hard to think of myself as mature and intelligent with such a silly fear. But to me, it wasn’t silly. It was horrifying. I didn’t want to even think about what it would be like to voluntarily stretch out my arm and offer up my blood. Unless of course I happened upon one of those beautiful, emotionally available vampires that seemed to frequent both moves and television lately. Then—well, I might be able to get over my phobia if it was to nourish the full sensual lips of an immortal hunk.
I considered that for a moment and then shuddered.
“No, not even then.” I shook my head. “Maybe a werewolf instead.”
I got a little distracted wondering if braiding chest hair could become a pastime for me.
When I finally looked back at the computer screen, I realized I was only halfway through my blog entry. I got back to work, determined not think about any more supernatural hotties.
Once I was finished, I posted the blog entry. Now it was real to me. Now I would be accountable. If I didn’t show up at the blood drive, or I didn’t follow through, I would have to admit it to my readers.
It wasn’t as if they would hunt me down and attack me. I was very careful about protecting my identity. It was more about the purpose of the blog.
I wasn’t just detailing my goals and challenges for my own sake and motivation. I wanted to reach other women out th
ere that might be facing the same struggle that I was. I wanted to inspire them. I wanted to give them the same hope that I felt every time I did something that I once thought was impossible. If I missed accomplishing something, it felt like I wasn’t just failing myself, but that I was failing them also.
I paced through the kitchen breathing deeply. With each breath I told myself that I could do it. It was just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. It was just a matter of opening that door and walking through it.
I paused and stared at the front door. It seemed like a much better idea to stay right where I was. I groaned as I realized that this might have been a terrible thing to pick for my bucket list.
I decided to go back and delete the blog post. It was very likely that no one had read it yet. I had never shown anyone my bucket list, and so whether I did what I listed was entirely my business. I would skip this one thing, or maybe just save it for when I was feeling more confident. Either way, I was not getting on that bus.
When I logged unto my blog to delete the post, I felt a rush of relief. However, before I could delete it, I noticed that there was a new comment already posted on it. My heart skipped a beat. I knew it would be from Blue.
Blue had been following my blog since my very first post. He always had something positive to say, and I considered him a friend of sorts. Though we’d never met in person, he’d had a big impact on my life. I saw that today was no different, as I read over his message.
SWF,
Anyone can try something new. It takes a truly brave person to accomplish something that is terrifying. I know just how brave you are. When you start to wonder if you are going to be able to do this, just remember that you have the support of many behind you. Maybe there will be a time when you are too scared to go through with something, but let me be your motivation. You can do anything that you put your mind to. Nothing has stopped you yet, and nothing ever will. When you give blood today, remember that you’re giving more than that. You’re giving up your fear and you’re giving yourself freedom. If I could be there to hold your hand, I would be. Since I can’t be, just keep in mind that there is at least one person in this world who knows just how brave you are. Please let me know how it goes today and never question just how brave you are.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 39