I wish I had learned how to swim before I developed cellulite. I wish I wasn't embarrassed of my dimpled thighs, showing out of my swimsuit. At a hotel recently, a guy and I were waiting for the chlorine crystals to dissolve and the foamy patches off of them to dissipate, and when we finally opened our bathrobes to get into the water I was conscious of the guy's gaze on my suit and thighs. and I felt him dismiss me because of my cellulite and the stretchmarks so visible on my dark skin. The guy felt unconscious of his aging body and to me his swimshorts clad white hairy middle aged body looked perfectly normal, a common sight. 

Most of the lionesses we saw were sleeping, or lazying. But one stood up a while, alert and looking toward thr leopard's tree, walked a few paces and then gave me a view of its side profile. One was running away from a jeep catastrophe (stuck in a ditch, the start of an orchestrated human-jeep team rescue event). And one, alone, emerged out of a bush when I spotted it and caused our jeep to stop, with flies covering it's face (possibly on blood from a kill), and slowly disappeared deeper into the bush. Every time a lioness moved upright, I watched her muscular body, rippling thighs, like womens' underwater, where each movement leaves reverberating echoes in the skin and muscles around it.... And I was conscious of the lionesses' unselfconsciousness regarding their bodies. How lovely to be like that.