It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. The Husband had taken The Little Miss for the day so the house was seemed too empty and quiet. A perfect day to relax, reflect and clear my mind. I drove down to the beach to catch the breeze in my hair and let my thoughts wander to other spaces.
I headed left. The sun in my face, the breeze at my back, and cool water lapping at my feet. I tuned into my music and put one foot in front of the other. Walking further from the crowds the space emptied out. Only a few people sunbathing here and there. And then none. My own little piece of beach. Peace. Quiet. Me. Alone.
I wandered a little further and could see the next enclave of people enjoying their Sunday. Dogs playing fetch, while their owners threw sticks and balls. Couples lying together. People solo, enjoying the sun on their bodies. Closer, closer, hmmm something seems different. Do I really see what I think I see? One foot in front of the other. Closer, closer and yes. It is what I think I see. Nakedness. Everyone. Naked. OMG.
Don’t stare. Look straight ahead. Wait, I want to peek. If I keep my head straight and just move my eyes as far as possible to the side, can I get a glimpse? Who are these people? Do I know any of them? No, don’t look. OMG, here’s a guy walking down the beach. We’re on a collision course. Where do I look now? His face? His body? His penis? Crap. What to do. Stay calm. Just pretend he has clothes on, say a brief hello.
He passed, but I did look. He was hung.
I kept walking and thinking. Mainly wondering what it might be like to confident enough with your body to the point of feeling okay with being naked in public. I’m so far from being there, I can’t even imagine. It must be fun. And freeing. I still don’t like to be naked in front of my husband, let alone being naked at all. I like the comfort of hiding myself behind my clothing. I have folds where there should be none. I have stretch marks all over my belly, breasts, arms and legs. I have so much I hide. I have too much I hide.
I’m envious of those who can bare all. I wish it was me, but for now, it’s now. And for those of you who do bare all, why is it that while I was walking down the beach I noticed most women lay face down while the men, like to lay face up with their manliness exposed to the world?