You know, Being N*ked Is Awesome

After a lifetime of indoctrinated fear, ignorance, and self-loathing, coming out of the closet has helped me feel comfortable in my skin... for the first time.

Between 1982-1986 I was a nervous gay teenager who felt uncomfortable changing in the high school gym locker-room. While other boys seemed confident and enjoyed being nearly nude, I did everything I could to hide and avoid the mirrors. I always felt unattractive, and some of the boys made sure I felt that way too.

Even when I was out after high school, I wouldn’t get naked with a romantic partner with the lights on. I always had to be covered up as much as possible. I rarely got fully undressed.

Then I went into the ex-gay conversion therapy world and that only made things worse. My poor body image was made exponentially worse and the feeling of inadequacy and being ugly followed me everywhere. I joined a gym for a long time to try to work through some of this and lose weight, yet I still refused to change clothes, as a grown man among other grown men, in the locker room.

I mean, my Gawd what if I saw a pen*s? :::gasp::: And, what if it was … big, long, and attached to the temptress himself, Daniel Craig? Nope! I cannot sexualize another man for my sinful lusts! So just like Joseph fleeing Potiphar's thirsty wife, I fled the gym instead of just changing clothes.

::: getting lost in thought thinking of meeting Daniel Craig in a locker room...:::

::: snapping out of it :::… Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah...

You know what happened when I came back out as a gay man for the second time? I was still very self-conscious but would change clothes at the gym and not care about others swinging richards, or if my own was visible, in the locker room. I didn’t have enough time to worry about that. Then over time, I would go to pool parties and not even notice that I had taken my shirt off. Eventually, I would go to clothing-optional events and not give a hoot about who was wearing, or not wearing, what. 

I grew to be comfortable in my skin, literally.

Nudity and sexual arousal are not the same thing and do not have to be tied together out of manipulation or fear. The only time they are truly tied together is when the boom-chicka-mow-mow (or the purposeful enticement of it) is going down; which a majority of the time, like when I mow my back yard, it is not.

Heh… wish I could see your face right now. LOL.

I also learned that I have nothing to be ashamed of regarding my body. It may not be the wonderland of John Mayer's imagination, but if I have an extra jiggle when I squiggle my wiggle ... So? You’re welcome!

My body is an important part of my story. To be connected to it in a healthy understanding and appreciation is to know a level of personal joy I didn’t know I needed.

I was once told by a very wise man,” If it’s a big deal, it’s a big deal. If it’s not a big deal, it’s not a big deal. In some matters, you most certainly can choose whether something is a big deal or not.” That’s true for me on this topic and many others.

The point of all this is that ignorance and homophobia kept me estranged from my body in both high school and the church closet. Being committed to radical honesty and comfortable in my own skin has united my mind and body in a way it's supposed to be united. That stupid lie of being “broken” has been replaced with being blessed. I am stardust the Divine whispered life into and am now a magnificent wiggly-jiggly-squiggly being.

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