My Friends Told Me to Cover Up—Because Their Husbands Feel Awkward

Sunny skies, sandy toes, and plenty of ice cream usually make for the perfect beach getaway. But for one of our readers, things didn’t go quite as planned. She felt confident and happy in her new bikini—until her friends started acting differently. Their husbands soon chimed in too, and what started as a fun weekend quickly turned tense. Before she knew it, her swimwear had become the centre of attention—and not in a good way.

Our reader, Shauna, reached out for help.

Hi Bright Side, I need some help.

My name is Shauna, and I’ve been single for a while now. I don’t mind it—I actually enjoy my freedom and independence. I have a close group of friends, all of whom are married, and we’ve been talking about planning a beach weekend for months. When we finally made it happen, I was thrilled. I thought it would be full of sunshine, laughs, and good memories.

There were seven of us in total—me, three of my close girlfriends, and their husbands. I’ve known these women for years, and we’ve always gotten along really well. I didn’t think twice about what I packed. I threw in my favourite bikini, some sunscreen, and a few beach reads. I never imagined it would lead to something that would leave me feeling so excluded.

The moment everything shifted.

We arrived, set up our chairs and umbrellas, and got ready to relax. When I took off my top and revealed my bikini, I immediately noticed a shift in energy. The conversation grew quieter. The husbands looked anywhere but at me. My friends—who are all beautiful, more voluptuous women—were wearing one-pieces or flowy cover-ups. I suddenly felt like I stood out in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

A little while later, one of my friends, Lacey pulled me aside. She smiled and, half-laughing, asked, “Hey, do you have something a little less... revealing?” I honestly thought she was joking, so I laughed too. I told her this was all I brought, and we moved on. The rest of the day felt mostly normal—at least on the surface. We swam, snacked, played games. But that uncomfortable moment lingered in the back of my mind.

She overheard conversation she couldn’t forget.

In the late afternoon, I stepped away to take a phone call. I walked a little further down the beach so I wouldn’t disturb anyone. On my way back, I was still out of sight when I heard my friends and their husbands talking. I froze when I heard my name. Andrew, Lacey’s husband, was saying, “Did you ask her to cover up? Can’t she tell she’s making us feel uncomfortable?”

Lacey replied that she had asked me, but I hadn’t listened. Then one of the other husbands chimed in: “Maybe she likes the attention.” They all laughed. My stomach dropped. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so small. I hadn’t meant to make anyone uncomfortable. I wasn’t trying to draw attention to myself. I was just wearing something that made me feel confident and comfortable—something I’ve worn on countless other beach days without a second thought.

Hurt, she quietly packed up and left.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to make a scene or confront anyone. I just walked quietly back to the house, packed my things, and left. I didn’t even leave a note. I felt embarrassed and hurt, and honestly, I didn’t want to cry in front of anyone.

Since then, I haven’t spoken to any of them. A few of them have reached out, asking if I’m okay and wondering why I’ve been “distant.” But I haven’t replied. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t think they meant to hurt me, but their words—and the laughter—keep echoing in my mind.

Part of me wonders if I overreacted. Maybe they didn’t mean it the way it sounded. But another part of me can’t shake the feeling that I was shamed for being confident in my own skin. I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, I was made to feel like I didn’t belong. Like I was a problem that needed to be covered up. I’m still deciding whether I want to respond to their messages or just let the distance grow. All I know is that something shifted on that beach—not just in how they saw me, but in how I now see them.

Thank you for reaching out to us, Shauna! We completely understand how frustrating this sort of situation can be, and we’re here for you. We’ve come up with 3 pieces of advice that we think may help.

1. Reevaluate your relationships.

Take a moment to consider whether this was just an isolated situation or part of a bigger pattern that leaves you feeling insecure about your body or decisions. Do they accept your perspective and honor your boundaries, even when you don’t see things the same way? If not, it might be worth reflecting on whether the friendship is truly supportive. You don’t owe anyone your continued presence if the relationship consistently makes you feel worse.

2. Don’t be too hard on yourself.

You didn’t do anything wrong in this situation. You chose to wear something that made you feel confident and comfortable. Rather than questioning your outfit or blaming yourself, shift the focus to how others reacted inappropriately. This experience shouldn’t make you shrink yourself. Keep wearing what makes you feel good—and never feel the need to apologise for being true to who you are.

3. Tell them how you really feel.

You did well by avoiding confrontation while emotions were high—especially with the husbands around. Now things have settled, suggest catching up one-on-one, maybe over coffee or during a walk. A relaxed environment can make it easier to talk openly. With honesty and understanding, there’s a chance to clear the air and possibly mend the friendship.

Heroes don’t always show up in capes—sometimes, they’re in swimsuits and appear just when they’re needed most. That’s exactly what happened to one of our readers. After a tiring day at work, she came home expecting a quiet evening with her three-year-old. But the moment she pulled into the driveway, her heart sank—her toddler was alone in the swimming pool. Read the full story here.