A rad bathing suit strategy

Outfit posts haven't been happening since Blokey's parents arrived and stayed with us. They are now at the Parkside B&B in lovely Prospect/Lefferts Garden (aka the "wrong" side of Prospect Park, but we dig it) for the next couple nights, so maybe outfit posts can continue. Today we went to Brighton Beach, aka the happiest place in the world. Can you tell I have a shore-fetish? In lieu of other brilliant bloggers talking about the beach/beachware (Sal of Already Pretty and D-Med of In Professorial Fashion), and my own obsession and attempt to get to the beach as much as possible (a shameful number this summer, given my proximity to the ocean), I'm sharing a picture of my own suit. But in an effort to not seem so narcissistic, it's an action shot from Lake Michigan, last weekend, courtesy of the beautiful Anne.

(She has been inexpertly cut out, unless she gives me permission to post the whole picture.)

I can't explain the face I'm making (I think our bachelorette friend told us to "work it for othe camera") but this gives you an idea of my modesty levels at the beach/shore. I wear a medium sized string bikini meant for a high school girl. There is very little coverage, and I doubt that I flatter my figure. I don't wear this because I think I have such a fit and awesome body. In fact, whilst in high school, arguably the fittest period of my life, I refused to wear a two piece bathing suit because of the following concerns: my torso was too long, my shoulders too wide, my breast too small, my arms too skinny, my thighs too heavy, my legs too short, stretch marks on my upper thighs, my hips too wide, etc. My body neuroses knew no bounds. But since I've been going to these awesome urban beaches, I've really learn to shed my bathing suit anxieties. There's something so accepting and awesome about going to crowded beaches, where folks look great, and happy, in their own way. Comfort, fun, and celebration seems to dominate here, not trying to create envy or hide "flaws." While I still maintain MANY hang ups and rules about clothing, I think I've managed to shed most when it comes to the beach. Yep, that's my tummy making little folds when I sit down, and I will have an Italian ice in this blaring sun, thank you.
So does anyone else feel more liberated at the beach/pool than you do otherwise? Or is the salt water just getting to my brain?