This is the most reluctant body-politics piece I have ever written, ever. I’m kind of over the whole body politics issue. Like, fuck. I have a body, you have a body. We all have effin’ bodies and they are all different, like snowflakes: individual, magical, melty, whatever. My butt has dimples okay? Some call it cellulite, I call it intrigue. I get acne sometimes. Like, on my back. It sucks, but what do you want from me? My arms will always be flabby. It’s okay.
I was going to preface this list of Ten Reasons Why I Love Being Naked by acknowledging my body privilege but then I realized, OH WAIT, I used to be anorexic. While the outside world may see me as skinny or fit or pleasantly plump, I am not exempt from fat-shaming and body politics. I remember waking up every day wishing to be skinny or dead. I remember not eating for months. But now, I’m 25, I eat well, (sometimes, rarely) work out and I still love being naked.
When I get home, the only thing I can think to do is strip down to my skivvies. It’s not totally glamourous, but it feels damn good. It’s like vacationing on a cold island called My Air Conditioned Condo, where nudists are welcomed to venture—but it’s just me and a couple of mirrors and windows. Here’s what I lurve about strutting my naked lady lumps.
- Catching glimpses of myself in the mirror or in the reflection of the window, cellulite, acne and all. It gives me a chance to remind myself of my good bone structure (hi Mom!).
- Clothes sometimes restrict the gelatinous nature of my butt, which I prefer to let run free. Like, I’m no Miley Cyrus, Twerking Expert M.D (because I heard that’s her official job title now), but my butt knows a dance or two and it don’t need my help or my permission.
- It’s kinda like practice makes perfect: the more I practice being naked, the more comfortable I get with it. That way, when I am without clothing in front of others (plural because I’m kind of a slut…hi again, Mom!), it seems less daunting, maybe even slightly natural, and all awesome.
- You haven’t lived until you’ve cooked naked. Just make sure you’re not using oil or something that will splatter your breastesses. Basically, order a pizza.
- Taking my bra off after a hard day of wearing it is the best feeling ever.
- A cold bedroom, where my bed has been thawing out in my AC for the duration of my departure, feels EFFING AWESOME on my bare skin. I could climb into the womb of duvets for an eternity.
- Updates on the status of my undies: ripped, looking old. Sometimes this is motivation for a little house cleaning, like, going through my closet and seeing if I need to talk to my gal Victoria and hear all her secrets.
- So what if I watch old episodes of TMZ while naked on my couch? It just feels right.
- It eradicates one more step between me and a hot bath. Because, I am trying to do as little amount of work as possible. Being naked just seems to be in line with the way I live my life.
- It’s awesome, okay?
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