"Naked" is the word of the day, provided to me by someone who’s seen me this way. And I’m not suggesting devoid of clothes. I mean naked and raw on the inside.
As I started thinking about this word and what it means to me, two things became apparent. It’s become a challenge for me to be naked on the outside and the inside at the same time.
To me, naked on the outside has become far easier the older I get. Seems ludicrous, given my body is no longer the twenty five year old pre-baby, pre-C section, version it once was. And yet, I’m far less worried about it. Physical perfection is the stuff of youth. Or photoshop. At this point in my life, I’m comfortable in my own skin. As long as I’m healthy, fit, and can fit my butt into my skinny jeans, I’m ok with my naked self. And, as I’ve learned in the last decade or so, being naked has nothing to do with sexiness or eroticism. That all comes with the confidence and swagger that is driven from our inside.
But then there is the internal naked. From that vantage point, I feel like I have never been as naked as I have in the last 174 days. Publicly, I’ve forced myself to write what’s existing in my head and heart. I get through it because I have convinced myself it’s just for me, and I don’t care about being judged or critiqued for what I put out there should anyone happen to read it. And yet each time someone mocks me for it, or rips apart my words, I am forced to realize how naked I have become. And some days it makes me want to retreat and quit. But rather than throw on a robe over my soul, I will continue. Because ultimately, I care far more about living my life authentically then I do about letting a hurtful comment impale me.
The other element to my internal naked is just plain raw. Perhaps the equivalent to a sunburn. When you are standing naked, the sunburn doesn’t bother you. However, if you begin to touch it, you realize how sensitive it is. As much I would love to have a San Tropez tan right now, I need to embrace the fact that I am still a little sunburned. Fortunately, over the past year it is fading. But every so often, I expose myself a little bit more. I have done that a few times in recent weeks. Sharing things I’ve bottled up and haven’t wanted to share with anyone. But I have, because honesty is important. And sometimes, with a little aloe and some time to heal, you realize you are ready to expose that tender skin again.
If someone had ever told me that at age 45 I’d be more comfortable physically naked than I would be baring my soul, I’d have thought them insane. And yet, I never thought the 45 year old version of me would be this fearless, or have sunburned at all with my Italian skin. So I power ahead, with Coppertone in hand. It’s just a low SPF though. What the hell is the point of getting back out in the sun if you can’t get a bit of color? I’m feeling brave - and I know I look good with a tan.
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