It wasn't my keys. ha ha! Don't try to visualize.
Not dressed like this.
This is more for Toronto right now, well this and a full sized faux fur lined coat all the way down to my feet,
…where sadly it is still -5 C or -15 C with the windchill.
At our resort we took out a sea kayak and when we were further out from the shore noticed a very secluded beach next to ours.
In fact they were finishing building a large fence to isolate the beach even more. When we got back from our kayak trip we walked down the beach and discovered a large sign on the outside of the fence that read,
No bathing suits.
Way back in-the-day I was quite free about romping around in the south of France or wherever for that matter sporting a G-string and nothing else. Yeah…not a whole lot of body issues with myself back then.
And no, it wasn't because I was super buff or thin.
I had confidence and a whole lot of,
I'm young and I'm gonna do whatever I want to
Yeah, I was that chick.
Flash forward… 25 years have passed, gravity and age have taken over and I see myself differently in the mirror.
And often I don't care for the image staring back at me.
That isn't me. I'm still a hip current 20 something hiding somewhere under that old person's skin.
But the mirror is telling another story.
With an objective eye I view my old/new/not-really-mine body and start picking out every
Flabby thighs, Buddha belly, chicken wings, veins, cellulite… and lately, wrinkled elbows, new scars and fatty knees.
Bye bye confidence.
Hello self doubt.
The fact remains…I'm not getting any younger. Every day I am one step closer to death. In 10 years from now (if I'm lucky enough to still be alive) I will look back at myself in photos and wonder what the heck I was so critical about.
The idea of that nude beach fascinated me.
It gnawed at my brain.
It resonated with the dark puddle of fear in the pit of my stomach.
It pulled me towards it with its promises of freedom,
fanciful and carefree self acceptance,
with a whole lot of **ck everyone attitude backing it up.
I sat on the beach wondering if I could do it. Just, you know, prove something to myself.
Prove that I'm still alive.
Prove that I'm still adventurous.
Prove that I can still be unpredictable.
Prove that I'm not that old gal in the mirror.
I thought about it more than I'd like to admit.
What did I care if some old dude saw my naked? Or anyone for that matter?
Would I feel differently walking around on a beach without wearing any clothing? I couldn't hide behind a well chosen cover-up or beach towel. I had to put it all out there.
This was the only time in my life I kind of wished I hadn't become obsessed with hair removal. sorry…TMI
I eyed up the entrance to that beach.
I stared at it.
I glanced over my shoulder at it. Just to make sure it was still there.
did I have the guts?
I could see other people going there. Not a whole lot, and FYI…not anybody that I personally wanted to see naked (hello 80-90 year old men!) …but it wasn't about that.
I didn't want to be scared of something as silly as removing my clothes.
I talked to Robert about the whole idea. He wasn't keen on it. And in typical male fashion was worried someone there might have "bigger equipment". Ah men.
I couldn't shake the idea so I kept working on him daily, wearing him down.
What do you care?
We don't need to do it for long.
Just to say we did it.
We can cross it off our bucket lists. It was never on there…but hey…don't be so picky!
Here is a new one guys…I even pulled out the,
" I need to do it for my blog."
Yep…I went there.
Best new excuse ever. I secretly knew blogging would eventually be good for something! ha ha!
So, early one morning, when putting out our towels at the beach before breakfast Robert decided that was the opportune moment.
It was now or never baby!
Yes… it was early.
And yes… there were no people on the beach yet.
And yes… this is a bit of a cop-out. However, I realized it would be my only chance.
I wasn't even in my bathing suit and had to strip down out of my shorts, t-shirt and undies.
Which I did.
We both did.
We walked around for a bit.
Went in the water a little.
Looked at each other.
and then put our clothes back on and went for breakfast.
It probably would have been different if there were people on the beach staring at us. Instead we only had to look at each other. After being married for 23 years we kind of know what to expect.
Neither one of us wanted to start frolicking on the sand letting the waves crash up on us while we made out à la "From Here to Eternity"
or even sit on the beach chairs without a towel underneath. So it wasn't quite as sexy as I'd thought. I've fooled around on beaches before and sand gets in places where I really don't care for it. Is that a sign of aging? Or wisdom?
I am grateful that there were no mirrors on that beach.
I couldn't judge myself.
The only one judging were the fish and the crab and they didn't seem to care.
My mind and body were
just to be
warmed by the sun
and alive with the ocean breeze, the heated breath of a forbidden lover, softly caressing my body.
I found the 20 year old carefree crazy girl on the beach that morning.
She's been with me all along.
She is the part of me that dresses in wild colours and fitted dresses, dances with abandon shaking parts of my body that shouldn't be and refuses to be told by anyone how to "age appropriately".
She was fine with letting the sun shine where it hadn't before.
I quite like her.
Have you visited a nude beach?