Naked, and NOT Afraid.

What is it about the naked human body that we deem such a, "thing?" I believe there are people who try and pretend to make it less significant, determined to make all places nude, where a beach is no longer for serpents in the sea, where the grocery store’s banana and melon sections could be on the move, where the dinner’s napkins and bibs more crucial as the soufflé comes out as the sales of baked Alaskans decrease significantly. I believe that besides the novelty that these same people are pretending exists, they feel the most comfort clothed, and there is a shock factor involved, a sort of “look at me, I am free, unlike you clothed, ‘restrained’ people." However, the body is not necessarily the most comforted clothed. Why? The Bible is why. Genesis is why. Being naked from the dawn of the fallen man, an indicator of significance. The latest fads could have been merely ways to shave the body’s hair, or a tattoo, for which if the latter went out of style, much like the Chinese decision on my back at 19, unlike my baggy clothes in high school, it is there for good, a very non-trendy, life-long decision. 

Clothes have their place and one my daughter finds more unnecessary than her mostly-conservative parents do. After all, she does recognize being naked is out of the norm due to her nervous laughter as she trots through the house denying the evening pull-up. As her butt cheeks bounce back and forth through a slight jog around the dogs, swaying into room after room as a chase ensues driven by mom and dad’s desire to catch her and the thrill of escape that lingers. She is able to recognize that being naked is significant sure, but it is the way she presents it, that which only lack of knowledge will allow. 

The body, the skin, the good and the bad, the areas of ourselves we don’t care to see, and in my case, shamefully show others, our loved ones perhaps, in the places where “love” resides. A child is able to be naked, ignoring societal norms if only for a short while, showing all parts of self, posing as though clothes are on when the breeze of a fan and the flicker of a few head hairs and the undeniable shiver that results in the dead of winter show the need for the socially acceptable, “jammies.” She just does it, hand on hip, butt in the air, the areas where bowl movements take place, now exposed, able to dry, a quick examination by dad to ensure health, all things we develop an aversion to, discounting even the air we breathe from gracing these surfaces, as though these molecules could judge. For those of us with body image disorders we deny those parts exist, or we make our entire self defined by their appearance. 

Yes, a reflection of the mirror, a flat lighting, a muscle unpumped, unfed, and a skin surface holding blemishes, a pasty skin hue, and the worst of all, water. For the image we see is as real as the lighting, the background, the tone at which the body chooses to reside the blood in the muscles and depicting where we place our own value. What’s worse is when we feel the compelled need to compare, only to lose every time, even when we win, for the behavior, the competition, is reinforced. The same competition that drove us to this staring, picking apart, over-examining, over-analyzing, and over-scrutinizing the tissues shown and the ones underneath. 

What do we do, but look, laugh, walk away as though it doesn’t bother us, but it does. Despite the increased desire for authentic pictures online, lacking airbrushing and makeup, the clothes, they remain. We are safe behind the public decency and the apple that Eve fed Adam as to the need to cover ourselves, never to show anyone until we reach the geriatric age and shame is gone with decency and our aprons open to expose that same part of us that was so adorable as a toddler running from room to room laughing at the chase. 

Body image disorders are insidious with varying degrees of severity. Suicide rates due to body image disorders are high, higher than many other mental health disorders. For any man who struggles, my book, Castle-Broken: When Appearances Are Everything, reflects on my life, what I have struggled with, and what has allowed me to get out of the depths of body image disorders. Click Here. 

I am not “fixed,” nor am I any “better” per se, but what I am, is able to admit vulnerability, no longer hiding shame like it will kill me if people see it. This is it, me, as naked as the internet will allow without a parental block, with nothing more than a plan to help others who can relate and understand, you are not alone. 

God Bless.