“Turn your head to the side.”
The heat of the sun crosses my bare chest.
CLICK… CLICK CLICK…
One of my very best friends is a master photographer, and in my escalating care for my reclaimed body, I have decided to have a topless photo session. It’s awesome. It’s exhilarating. It’s empowering.
I feel incredibly beautiful. Ten out of ten. Two enthusiastic thumbs up. It was better than CATS.
No one besides the two of us has ever seen these pics, they are an ethereal work created by my artistic savant friend. Not smutty, neither lewd nor lascivious, these photographs capture my calm and content repose. She did an incredible job. After so many years of carefully and deliberately making sure everything was covered, of being practically ashamed to even be in possession of “naughty” bits, every shred of clothing that fell to the ground that day felt like a brick removed from my back, the overpoweringly heavy burden of rules finally being removed, one garment at a time. I am now free and proud of my body, I feel happy and comfortable in my own skin at last.
I’m learning to love myself, and doing so does include loving the vessel, the body inhabited.
Some of the teachings I was exposed to over my church years implied the idea of the naked body being somehow bad. The minute that darn female in the garden tasted forbidden fruit, innocence was ruined and they both had to Gilligan’s Island together some sort of outfit of leaves and twigs. One bite of bad apple, and your body is shameful and must be covered, for Pete’s sake! Worst case of food poisoning ever. It took too long for me to figure out that the real evil happens when you don’t protect and defend, and take pride in, and love… your own body. This vessel bearing the soul is a gift to us. It’s beautiful, you only get the one, and what you allow into it, whether it’s food or drink, or an undesired person in your space, affects all of it. Likewise, when you treat yourself well, appreciate yourself, love yourself, it spills over into the world around you. People know when you respect your own being. It breeds confidence, something everyone finds attractive, and has a natural magnetic effect. Yet many subconsciously learn not to respect themselves, by either not having autonomy and control over their own body, or being taught that their body is “dirty”.
Sexual deviants are often raised with very strict don’t-touch-yourself, your body is dirty rules. Bad things happen when you aren’t allowed to love yourself and this body you have been given. The whole picture becomes skewed. Most generally live out the beliefs they are taught, never questioning how it is affecting them, or why their psyche is damaged.
And yep, I’m gonna go there. I’m swinging that forbidden door and marching straight into the taboo topic room.
Folks, I’ve read it cover to cover, there is absolutely no teaching in the Bible against touching yourself. Ha. I’ve known it for years, and I’ve finally come out of the closet with the shoebox of AA driven toys and said it. Your body is yours to enjoy. I mean, maybe not in the parking lot of the local Krogers, but you get my point.
I think I may have lost a few of you for ten minutes.
Okay, back yet? Was it good for you? I’ll continue. I did learn to be proud of my body. I would stand in the mirror on a regular basis, naked, and tell myself I love you. And hug myself. All getting pieces of Monica back, all rebuilding the me I had lost.
I go to lingerie stores, and buy the sexiest, most flattering underthings I can find. Newsflash: Women buy beautiful underthings for themselves, far more so than for their significant other, I can say this pretty confidently because if one of the opposite persuasion happens to get to the point where they view said lingerie, it lasts about two seconds before being discarded. Now that I’ve started respecting my body, I want to decorate it. So much fun. And this is good, and healthy. Bad things happen when you don’t think of your body as an amazing gift for you to cherish and treasure, and take pride in. There’s a psychological concept called self-comfort, the ability to take care of oneself, to see that our own needs are met. Then we are not so needy, and become more caring to those around us. I’m learning.
In the midst of all this body-pride self discovery, Prepdude takes me skinny dipping. Okay, yeah, I know like 99.5% of you have already done this, but I had not. We find what we think is a remote part of Tiny Town, go a ways down an overgrown path that looks appropriately rarely traveled, and, leaving clothes on the shore, head into the cold running waves of the river. Oh, this is exciting!! The bottom is mucky, though, and I’m sinking up to my ankles. Visions of leeches clinging to intimate body parts fill my mind, and we both panic and flee for the shore. Mission aborted, we head back up the trail. As we are driving back from this attempt at a fun escapade, I realize the area we were in was on a daily canoe trip run, one of those where a busload of people paddle down the river in droves. It dawns on me that we almost became part of their itinerary, hey folks, to your left you see a loon, and on your right, naked homo sapiens in their wild habitat. Well. I guess that would have made their sightseeing a bit more exciting, but also would have landed us both a 400something fine for indecency, as well as a nice write up in the paper, according to my police officer friend. Oh, can you just imagine? The Tiny Town newspaper listing the name of the deposed worship leader and her illicit lover, now busted for public indecency?
I have GOT to get out of here.
I want my world to be bigger.
Every time I visit Prepdude in Big Suburb, the excitement of a place where no one knows me as a pastor’s wife calls my name a little louder. The area is adjacent to a major city, yet is beautiful and upscale. I bet I could have an amazing salon here.
I start researching the area. Turns out, there is a reason this area is so beautiful. It’s one of the wealthiest counties in the state. It is packed with lakes and beautifuI natural features, and loaded with parks and trails. I start researching schools, and discover eight of the top ten schools in the state are in this area. Wow.
My son is graduating and headed to college, closer to Big Suburb, and my daughter HATES Tiny Town. Then, I discover the tidbit that changes everything. They teach a very specific subject my daughter has always wanted to study. The minute I tell her, I can see her mentally packing her bags. This is my tipping point.
We are moving to Big Suburb.
I am nuts.
I only know Prepdude, his family, and a handful of his friends… do I dare even consider…do I dare even think about … moving? I have been in Tiny Town for 18 years. This would be a massive drastic change. Which is just what the doctor ordered. Or, I’m crazy. Take your pick.
Big Suburb has music venues. Big Suburb has every kind of store you can imagine. Big Suburb is freaking awesome!
I find a cute little apartment.
I rent a truck.
I watch Tiny Town get smaller, and smaller, and the single pixel in my rearview mirror finally blinks out.
Worship Leader Gone Wild 