The Naked Truth …and the truth of being naked.

Running with Scissors (film)
Image via Wikipedia

In the interest of clarity, I am compelled to discuss nudity.

More specifically nakedness, being naked and frolicking. Ok.  We aren’t going to discuss frolicking  much as I would like to and although it does go well with nudity, it is a little beyond the scope of the question.  But If we get through the matter at hand  and have time, I don’t see a problem  with covering that as well.  So let me not digress.

The question that seems to be plaguing nearly everyone I have had a chance to speak to about my blogging endeavor is this :

Why on EARTH would you run with the scissors while you are  naked. ? 

I find my self puzzled that if they are confused by the naked part, they seem to not have a problem with running with scissors.  In fact it almost comes across as if running with scissors is perfectly acceptable but NOT while naked.  ………….  Maybe I have underestimated the shock value of running with scissors in today’s society?  Oh, certainly not but before I go out in left field pondering that dilemma, I am just going to say if I did underestimate it , adding naked to the mix fixed that.  Fo Sho!!  (Please don’t frown upon the last statement.  It’s just an attempt to show my older kids that I am with it.  Apparently proper grammar and spelling arent hip these days.  Neither, I’m told is saying hip but I’m quite sure I will address all that  another day.)

Back to the naked question.  It is such a simple answer.  Not as in, obvious.  As in fairly easy to explain.

I do, however have a few things to say about nudity.  I changed my mind because who knows when the next time I will have a chance to expound on the utter joyful blissfulness  of being able to take all your clothes off and enjoy it.

I didn’t always feel that way,  but I found myself coming back around sometime in my late 30’s  and arriving where I am today at complete adoration of being naked.  I am not sure if this is a common phenom for women to grow into and accept themselves sometime around this age or if I just happen to be lucky woman as I could care less about the dimple(s) on my ass or what anybody lucky enough ( yup uh huh i said lucky 🙂 ) to see me naked  thinks of them.  I suspect that it’s a mixture of growing older and the fact I have a guy that loves me right down to the very last dimple, who showed up in my life right around the time I began coming back to the contentment of just being in my own skin.  I especially bask in the feeling because if you had told me some 20 years ago that I would be comfortable, even happy in my body I would not have even registered a reaction.  I could not even fathom not being at odds with my body in some way.

When I was very young, I remember I was allowed to play outside with my brother without any shirt on.  there was nothing hinky about it.  I remember one day though telling my mom I was hot and my brother had taken off his shirt and she told me to go ahead and take mine off as well.  I must have been between 4 and 5 probably closer to five and I remember even now the acute sense of embarrassment that washed over me when she suggested it.  I have nothing to anchor that feeling to and apparently it wasn’t my mom who caused me to feel that shame.

I had a weight problem most of my child hood, which ended my junior year in high school with a full-blown eating disorder.  Needless to say body image was not high on my happy list. and the quite sudden change from being overweight to being underweight didn’t help my self-image . I had no clue how to identify myself or where I fit in.

I don’t remember having any kind of feeling about being naked.  except that I wasn’t naked unless absolutely necessary .  I suppose that leads one to believe I was not at all comfortable with being naked.  Such a shame .

Shame is exactly what it was .  Shame that my body wasn’t like those models in the magazines and images on t.v.  It wasn’t just me.  My friends felt shame too.  We spent so much energy on shame when we were younger and the real shame was what we missed out on because of it.

How many of us in our younger years found ourselves swept away in a passionate moment to be stopped dead when it occurred            to us that we were naked in front of …a GUY.  and instead of being able to just enjoy the moment, the thought of every little imperfection began swimming around in our brains and the fear that he might notice, that he might be disgusted,  rudely interrupted any warm fuzzy feeling about what would have been a well needed romp.  And later laying in bed instead of basking in the glow of sexual release, we worried that our thighs might have jiggled too much and that the GUY would kick us to the curb because of it.

The irony of it all.  All those years when the body was working properly, no aches or pains or hindrances to romping and the brain just couldn’t get into it.  Now I find the opposite to be true.  I am into it all the way mentally and I as I said earlier, I could care less about perceived flaws, but my body is not always up to it. Although, they are more in the middle and balanced and peaceful than at any other time in my life.   As it is lately I have not had much opportunity for romping so I am quite happy with just being naked.

And it is also a damn shame that we beat ourselves up worrying if the guy was gonna reject us .  Obviously I can’t say for sure not being a guy and all, but I bet the guy was just so damn happy he was gonna get laid….I just chuckle when I allow my thought s to trip back to the past.  What else can you do?

Celebrate how far we have come by relieving ourselves of clothing and reveling in the wonder that we are?  I am all for it but,

Before I forget;

It was having a baby that brought me back to being comfortable in my own skin. How could you hate something that can make and carry and push into the world another human being?    And since I went on to have 5 more after that one it is safe to say I am secure in my skin my body my bones….and being naked.   Incidentally all my kids were allowed plenty of naked time when they were younger.   I was of course worried that my daughters would have the same sense of shame and I wanted to prevent it……  I think I did.  Can I say that’s all because of naked time?:  No but I have no doubt that being allowed to be themselves in their birthday suits was pretty darn liberating experience and good for them too.

I have already decided that I will become a nudist when I am an old woman.  I might not even have to wait until I am so old considering I am already a little  cracked.   Somehow I don’t think my kids would be adverse to letting me have a little naked time before dementia sets in.

As to the question of being naked and running with the scissors?  One of the definitions in the dictionary is ;  having no protection or concealment.  defenseless.  That is the truth of it.

What I am doing here  means some thing to me.  I feel protective of the words you are reading because they reveal me.

I am, in a sense standing naked before you.    

But I do have a pair of scissors behind my back just in case.  And that is the naked truth.

5 thoughts on “The Naked Truth …and the truth of being naked.

  1. I love being naked!! the wifey not so much (or at all)!! haha

    I will get naked anywhere, it doesnt bother me. I walk around the house in front of whoever. Its my house!

    More or less for shower trips or looking for clothes. I dont just sit here and read blogs nude! Although I would if I were single! And then it would probably lead me to another site…hehe

    The boy has no shame either and he just turned 11. He’ll sport the Canadian tuxedo whenever as well (around the house).

    1. There is a certain freedom in it -too bad society makes it so – whatever. Think if we were in a world where it was normal to take off your clothes when you walked into your house just like your shoes and if you went to someones home there would not be weird to see them walking around naked because that;s how it is. Clothes only to protect from the elements lol….
      🙂 Peace

      p.s. I am unfamiliar with the term Canadian Tuxedo?

  2. I never wondered why “running naked with scissors” I assumed you were being open, letting down your defenses, taking chances, breaking the “rules”. I never even considered the scissors were “protective”.

    I love nakedness, I don’t remember ever being allowed to run naked as a kid. When I had my son, every night after his bath was his “running naked” time. I have a picture of him with his T-shirt on his head like a hat and the biggest smile on his face, bare balls, running around the house.

    I suppose it did cause a few embar*ass*ing moments; like the time he ran out the door and I lost him for a few minutes. He’d run out the door and across the street straight through the neighbours open front door, right through their living room (where they were entertaining 1\2 people and having wine and appies). I was outside frantically calling my son when I heard, “Over here”.

    There was my naked child chomping on a cookie, naked (aside from his shirt on his head), pleased as punch. I must have been beet red, they were all laughing themselves sick. I half expect child services to be knocking at my door. But it was funny!

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