When’s the last time you got naked?
When’s the last time you got naked and felt good about it?
It occurs to me how infrequently we get naked once we’re no longer kids. Sure, if you’re a nudist, you get naked on a regular basis. Naturally, we get naked when we bathe.
But what about bed time, sliding under the sheets with the one we love? Do we leave the lights on and linger? Do we get naked without shame or fear of scrutiny? Without our own judgment?
Most likely if you’re a woman – regardless of how you look – you get naked with trepidation – with your partner, and possibly with yourself. Anyone care to offer a differing experience?
I’d love to be wrong.
When’s the last time you didn’t admonish yourself for some perceived flaw? For not looking the way you did before the holidays, before two kids, before the age of 30? When’s the last time you looked, just to get comfortable – and maybe to say – not so bad?
Fear of Fat
Not long ago I shared my thoughts on the FAT personality – prompted by articles addressing the controversy over model Katya Zharkova’s nude shots, and the theoretically “plus size” average in America – a 12 or 14. And apparently even the reference to average size is more complex than it sounds. This couldn’t be clearer considering there is little standardization when it comes to fashion size and fit. Moreover, size standards involve numerous assumptions including ethnicity and female body shape.
So why is it that we’re so worried about a little healthy flesh? And I said healthy flesh; I’m not talking about our well documented issues of obesity in this country, and the obviously damaging impacts to individual and societal well-being.
Incidentally, the image shown above comes from a 2009 article in Glamour Magazine, which featured beautiful nude photographs of plus-size supermodels, in all their voluptuous glory. I encourage you to glance at those pictures as well.
Women with Curves, Women with Bellies
I recall a few years back checking out The Belly Project. If you haven’t seen it, and if you’re a woman, you might want to spend some time browsing its pages and its photographs. It includes women of all ages, both pre- and post-pregnancies, not to mention following surgeries. And it provides a view of real bellies – in all their diversity of shapes, sizes, and surface textures.
Frankly, I found it fascinating. And educational. And a relief. Naturally, I compared my own belly to those in the images, factoring in my personal stories of weight gain and loss, age, height, and pregnancies. And that particular comparison process was healing.
This site, Mozaik Curves, presents photography and drawings of real life women who are generally on the larger side. More than bellies, and, as you might imagine from the site’s name, these are women with curves and they’re unafraid to show them off.
It may be your thing; it may not. These women may resemble you, your sister, your mother, your wife, your best friend – and you may not be comfortable actually seeing them in partial undress. But if you’re willing, then glance – and consider. These are real women, getting naked. Very tastefully, by the way.
Youth is Wasted on the Young
Yes, the models I’ve referenced to this point are all young. Certainly those models in the Glamour spread, as well as Katya Zharkova, and those on the site I mentioned. They may be rounder than society currently deems ideal, but if their skin is taut and toned and smooth, they are still far different from those of us who have experienced dramatic weight loss (and gain, and loss, and gain) or the aftereffects of multiple pregnancies, or surgeries that were necessary for medical reasons.
So where are the images of real-world mature women? I’m not talking “adult” sites, but other sources, so as we age we may look and realize we are undergoing normal and natural changes – not some aberration to be covered up, or exchanged for surgical scars.
Where is our ability to honestly address the issues around fat and its perception, fat and its many psychological roles, fat as emotional hiding place, fat and the judgments we bring to the very word, fat and the damning image we carry in our heads, fat prejudice that continues to go unchecked?
Tasteful Nudes, Women Over 40, Women Over 50
What if we had images of midlife women in the nude? Not sexual images, but tasteful nudes – and women with “real” bodies at 45 or 50 or 60 or 70?
What if we had access to images of older women – oh, even an updated Calendar Girls – so we might make peace with our bodies more easily? So we might feel accepted, feel loved, feel worthy – and worthy of feeling sexual?
Then, would aging seem as frightening? Would we feel inferior to those women who trade the permanent scarring of nips and tucks for flesh that is rippled from pregnancies and subsequent weight gain and loss?
Hell, it’s hard enough to find women over 50 in magazines – and with clothes on! Doesn’t this have an insidious effect, rendering us increasingly invisible – or at least, trying to do so?
Nudity Without Shame
Hello, Body Project, are you out there – in process, or waiting to be conceived?
Would that we could encourage such a thing, and enjoy seeing the diversity of naked women in entirety; women of many ages and sizes – so we might all experience greater comfort – and normalcy – in the body as it is.
And I wouldn’t be against including men, except that men seem so much more able to accept their bodies than women. They don’t run around asking each other (or their partners) if they look fat. They don’t discount their viability in the relationship market as a function of weight or BMI. They don’t mentally calculate every calorie (or Weight Watcher’s point) as they contemplate the meal placed in front of them. They don’t suffer the Body Politic, going to bed hungry by choice, making love hungry and distracted, performing sexually while sucking in their stomachs all the while hoping they’re being viewed at an attractive angle.
They don’t cook for a family in an environment of plenty – while living a constancy of preoccupation that involves denial and self-deprecation.
Seeking Tasteful Nudes
By the way, I looked for two days off and on, trying to find images – tasteful images – of female nudes over the age of 50. You know – “regular” women, and preferably without air brushing or Photoshopping.
No go.
And if I had, I would’ve included photos here.
Listen, I’m all for women who take care of themselves – eating well and staying as fit as possible. Nor do I assume that a woman who is a size 14 or 16 or 20 isn’t healthy, attentive to what she eats, and fit. But, when I speak of photographs to help us see ourselves clearly (and kindly), I don’t mean carefully composed pictures of models or actresses who still look spectacular at 50 – what “society” deems spectacular. (You may recall that Farah Fawcett decided to disrobe for Playboy at 50.)
I mean something else. Something more real. Something beautiful in that reality. Something other than what I found: MILFs on adult sites (generally not over 40), “mature” women on adult sites (again, not over 40), and sexually explicit shots of overweight women (young). While there are some gorgeous sites with tasteful nudes, yes, once again, they’re all young.
Like I said, nothing like the Belly Project, but with women at midlife and older – tastefully and honestly presented.
Over 50? Still sexual? Wanting to feel “normal” in your womanly curves? Desirous of feeling acceptable and accepted, and without society pressing you to undergo surgical procedures to “compete” – that you can neither afford nor want? Where do we find our role models? Our confidence?
Fat Head? Wise Head? Blind to Beauty?
If you’re naturally thin, fine!
But what about the rest of us? What about all the hours (days, months, years) we accumulate, convinced we’re “fat” and therefore unworthy, wasting precious life on wishing we were someone else? On trying to remake ourselves to look like someone else?
What about the years spent trying to reshape our bodies to resemble Kate Moss, and pointlessly so?
Is she beautiful? Sure! Is she too thin? Some would say she used to be (there’s a bit more of her now), and others would say she’s perfect – as she is, or as she was. I wonder, would she say she was ever perfect?
What about all the hours (days, months, years) we live in our heads rather than our bodies because it seems less painful to do so? What about the blindness to our own beauty – just as we are?
Healthy Body, Count Your Blessings
If we have the good fortune to be healthy, why can’t we celebrate that – and use our wiser heads, our common sense, and ignore the media madness that tells us youthful skin and bones are better than soft and welcoming flesh, better than naturally aging bodies that still serve us daily, better than whatever self-image we may carry in our heads that is never quite up to snuff?
I think we could learn from our little ones who charge through the house – gleefully – in their birthday suits. Somewhere along the way, before puberty, we teach them shame – directly or indirectly. They begin to compare their bodies in judgmental fashion; we compare our bodies – and let loose with little remarks about being fat, or wishing we had a straighter nose or longer legs or bouncier booty or something other than what we have, what we look like, the body that houses us – that is us.
We’re All People, People!
I don’t recall when or where it was, but several years ago I saw a photograph of a massive crowd of “regular people” standing, in the nude. Older, younger, heavier, thinner.
It was, well, eye-opening.
So many arms, legs, hips, bellies, boobs, genitals. All imperfect, and lovely in the landscape of relaxed and widely diverse human form. And after a few minutes – they all seemed somehow equalized, and natural. Why are we so afraid? So determined to compare and then put ourselves down? What is the problem with nudity, with our bodies as they are – as long as we’re healthy?
- What if we all got more at ease with getting naked? With ourselves, and then with our significant others?
- What if we spent five minutes a day in front of a mirror, telling ourselves we’re just fine as we are? Especially the women?
- Would looking at ourselves daily – as well as looking at others – help return some measure of reasonableness, confidence, and self-esteem?
As for that five minutes?
This morning I did exactly that. I looked in the mirror and I said to myself: Not so bad.
Click on Glamour 2009 image to access the original and subsequent article and photos.
Kate Moss, Photo Credit Peter Lindbergh; click on image to access original as it appears on Telleestmatele.com.
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Hear hear!
I admit, after baby #2, now that I’m breastfeeding, I’m the smallest I’ve ever been (except when I was breastfeeding #1). I’m not “model thin” by any means, but I like where I am, imperfections and all. However, when I look at myself in the mirror, I also suspect what I see in the mirror won’t stay this way because the baby won’t be breastfeeding forever and I shudder to think that this pride with my own body is fleeting.
But, from someone who suffered an eating disorder back in college for having a poor body image, I have come a long way. After the birth of my firstborn, I have so much respect for what my body can do that instead of being hard on myself for not being “model thin”, I forgive myself the flaws and learn to live with what I have. It was for her sake that I worked hard at my body image issues because I really want to be a good role model for her.
At home, my 3yo loves to run around naked and my mom used to chide her for it – “Shame!” she would say and I wouldn’t have it. She would also comment on how “skinny” my daughter is, and I put a stop to that too. She is three. She doesn’t need to hear comments about her body and she doesn’t need to start being self-conscious at such a young age.
I hate that no matter what I do at home, the pressure from society and media will probably undo some of the good I’m trying to do with my daughters at home. I just hope they’ll be strong enough to love and accept themselves for who they are. I do now, but it took many years to get here.
Thank you, Justine, for sharing your experience. It does indeed take many years to get “here” from “there.” May all our daughters know a shorter journey.
This is a beautiful essay! Most writing about how we don’t need to be thin does not convince me … but yours, with that gorgeous photo and words, really does make me think that all shapes are beautiful. If we respect and honor our bodies, move them, don’t feed them too much or too little, then whatever we get as a result is perfect, I think. And that looks so different on so many people.
I used to be very thin when I ran a lot and now I am not. I’m not fat but I’m average. For years I wanted to be thinner, but just in the last few months, I realized that I can either starve myself and be thinner, or be kind to myself and look like I do. I have decided on the latter. Thank you for this beautiful and SANE piece on our bodies.
Oh, I agree – more older plus sized models. We need to embrace wrinkles!!
Pamela, Thank you so much for reading and commenting, and adding your thoughts to Justine’s.
Just think how many hours (years?) we waste obsessing over body image, when we could be putting that time into learning, into producing, into creating, into discovering, into loving, into parenting! Can you imagine?
I believe the words we choose are essential to the way we form our self-image. What if, for example, you viewed your weight as average for your height, age, and sex – and your body – as natural, strong, supple, beautiful, functional, healthy and sensual? Some may say this is semantics; I would argue that semantics matter, that language matters.
Here’s hoping we allow our body language – such as it is – to speak its own mind, and that we may feel more integrated as women – body and mind.
So much here! I am trim but curvy, feeling mostly at ease with all that is marked on me at 52, after three children. When, seven years post divorce, a very tender and romantic relationship emerged from a long professional association, well, eventually, the low lights and sheets moment arrived. I had to keep telling myself inside, that every thing was all right and that the gifts of self were enough. I had not been in this situation since my wedding night…all was fine then, during, later, and still. I did have to keep breathing to keep from self-critical jabs at myself.
We are in a peaceful and content place, with occasional flights of such physical joy. Men as they age might be more companionable to many of us women in terms of luxurious time spun out slowly, rather than a seven minute trip around the bases.
However, I miss that this dear person I am with now, does not have the arc of years with me, knowing me then, when I did have that youth and polish. The marks of childbearing are no longer lovely in the eyes of the father of my three children, my very difficult former spouse. Ironic, really, because the changes that come with pregnancies are the costs of bearing a specific person’s babies. Fast forward now: These marks have been traced by another man, gently, who did not greet his babies as they emerged with me. We are past the age of children, yet, this sweet tug toward the past of young bodies, DNA insisting that it be knit forward, and the bond forever that is children, grandchildren, and descendants. I miss that.
The marks of age on men are often different that on us; a suit slims the paunch and thicker waist. The tie and collar covers the loss of neck and jaw….
Yet, we can be kind to each other and trace the lines of before…I suspect that most women feel that their losses and loosenings and spreadings and wrinkles and greys more acutely than most men.
I am jumping around here. But, we women need to be kind to ourselves. And real.
What profound and poignant observations, NoName. I am so thrilled for you that joy is part of your life again. Like you I always wondered why the man with whom I made children held no appreciation for the story of their growing and their birth, marked on my body. How many millions of women experience this same disappointment? And how wondrous when we encounter Real Men who understand the breadth and depth of beauty possible in each of us, including the marks on our flesh that tell our tales and leave our legacies.
I understand about wishing we had been able to share our more youthful selves with these Good Men. Then again, we ourselves were likely more superficial then. Isn’t it part of the maturing process to see beyond the surface?
Thank you for sharing these lovely remarks.
“I’d love to be wrong.”
Good. Meet my wife. Or me (I’m not sure that men are that different, although it may be for different reasons). But it took us (independently) a while to get that way.
So glad you joined the conversation, Paul. (Do men go through this? Some men? to a lesser (or more localized) degree?)
As you say, it can take awhile…
Right now, I have no problem with getting naked. There is something about pregnancy that breeds confidence in me.
This last year, after I had worked hard to lose weight I didn’t need and actually achieved a six pack, I was very proud of my body. After my third miscarriage and having to take birth control for my period issues, I gained 20 lbs. It was the most depressing 2 months of my life–continuing my regular exercise regime, cutting back on calories, and STILL GAINING WEIGHT. I could not look in the mirror; my libido went kaput; and I didn’t like my husband to touch me (in case he grabbed my fat rolls).
The reality behind my distress is I looked in the mirror and did not see a model. I saw a woman who looked lazy and frumpy. I avoided nudity at all costs; furthermore, I avoided clothes that clung to my body and emphasized those areas I wished to hide.
I will never have the “ideal body” (according to model standards). I have large boobs, a big ass, and big hips. But I am healthy and carry my weight well (when it’s not packed on by birth control) and look beautiful. It is hard in our society to feel comfortable in anything over size 4; however, women come in all shapes and sizes.
I know so many women who freak out when they get pregnant because they are worried about losing their bodies. Nevermind that most husbands find their wives attractive when pregnant (a paternal instinct), it’s that they can’t fully enjoy the process because, in our plastic society, they can’t fathom being attractive with anything but a slim belly.
Your remarks on aging have got me thinking in a different direction. In one of my classes during college, we talked about sex and the elderly. Most people look at elderly couples as “cute,” yet find any suggestion of sex to be disturbing. Like your sex drive suddenly disappears when you get older. It’s a disturbing trend that stems from people’s fear of getting older.
I feel that women who are 40 and older must contend with this idea–that having sex at their age is disturbing and shouldn’t be openly discussed. So when it comes to them being attractive? Hell no. You can’t be attractive if you are labeled as “cute.” Men, on the other hand, are considered distinguished and sex a necessity. They can model without worry.
I would take on the body project if you would collaborate with me. 🙂
I love the honesty in your comments, Amber. Always.
I’ll respond to two things directly:
As to sex and libido in those who are “older” – let me just say, as one who is past the 50 year mark – all systems are a GO, and while I won’t say that I walk around feeling sexy all the time, I feel a lot sexier than I did 20 years ago. Any other 50-somethings and 60-somethings (or older) care to “weigh in?”
As to the Body Project? Why not?
🙂
I think there’s a big range among people, of both sexes regarding nudity. I mentioned a different reason for men. I believe that men are particularly sensitive to men seeing them naked, unless there is an obvious reason (some sports and medical situations offer a reasonable excuse). Look at the issue that has been made of gays in the military. I was at a school reunion last year and was surprised that we were all standing around naked in the communal bathroom, like decades ago. This is uncommon these days. A good friend of mine is gay (bi-sexual is probably more accurate). Once at a meeting in DC I had planned a day trip (a long day), and he had a room with a king sized bed and said I could share it. I trust this friend completely, the bed was huge, and it was convenient to not have to return home late. I was surprised that I was somewhat uneasy initially — why? No problem. (However I’ve been known to joke with me wife that I once slept with a gay man.)
This makes me think of those classic paintings of “The Fall”—shamed Adam and Eve slinking from the garden, no longer splendidly nude but now shamefully naked. I love the ideas and points you put forth here BLW, and I would further add that time before the mirror, striving to see what is there and not what we think or wish would be there, will let us, as Oscar Wilde suggests, see the beauty in what is there or realize that we still have not yet seen ourselves at all (only our wounds and projections and society and collective pain and anxiety and greed to prey upon our insecurities and foist them off onto others). This makes therapeutic psychological sense, perhaps even to confront our fears right along side our nude bodies—the implied fear that we are not lovable and are destined to be alone. This dread is often the core of our misery—for if we can love ourselves and accept ourselves we can turn to truly appreciating others for who they are, and that allows us to make relationship, to find mutual pleasures of all stripes, and to come together in ways that are fun and deeply nourishing.
It makes sense to me that voices that I find authentic and inviting, like yourself, Amber, Pamela also speak of self-acceptance and appreciation of your own bodies.
Lovely Bruce. Thank you.
A friend initiated a girls day at a local Korean bath a couple of years ago…fully naked, all shapes and sizes, all ages…true female humanity and very refreshing. I was self conscious at first no doubt. I have since gone several more times and have come to appreciate the healing aspects of the baths and the tradition of asian cultures and a reminder of what is real. As a late 40 year old while I am fit and eat “right” with an appropriate BMI, I find my mid section thickening and my metabolism slowing. I find my husband helpful, while I am strong and self confident, in his fully loving me an acceptance that is total.
You touch on something so important, Jenn – the judgments that others bring to bear based on what they observe, and that we bring to bear on ourselves.
People look at a woman (especially) who may appear to have a few extra pounds on her, and right away an assumption is made that she isn’t physical, she doesn’t eat as well as she should, she doesn’t care about her appearance, she isn’t fit, she doesn’t exercise. (Hello, Prejudice?) In fact, we all have a body type and metabolism we live with, and other factors affect weight and shape of course – like genetics, like medical conditions, like drugs we may be taking for medical conditions. And yes, like changing body shape after children and as we hit midlife.
Let’s hear it for the good men and good women and good friends in our lives who accept our changing bodies as we should. I’m so glad you stopped by and commented.
I am a forty-ish woman dating a man of similar age. I am just recently coming to acceptance and love of my body which has birthed three children, breastfed extensively and it is relatively healthy, gets me where I need to go and is well-loved by those three little ones. My former spouse had multple affairs with women 10-15 years younger – there was clearly a body type he was seeking and it did hurt my self image. Since he left, I’ve become so much more accepting of my very average frame (size 12).
The man I now date is very athletic (hello, marathon runner and high school coach) and in the beginning I was quite concerned with how he may or not accept my body. I struggle to believe his words that, “A woman’s body is best when different from a man’s – I like the soft, curvy comfort.” He smiles to acknowledge we are not in our twenties and doesn’t want a woman who is. Somedays, I believe him.
Missy June, Thank you so much for sharing your experience. For many of us who have had children, seen our bodies change, fought those changes with all our might, and nonetheless wind up divorced, I think we carry certain wounds with us into subsequent relationships. And I think we learn to heal and grow stronger when the men we’re with see our beauty as we are. And yes, sometimes, we believe them. Ideally, we would see the same beauty ourselves, and believe in it every day.
I won’t pretend to say that I am there – every day. But the more we work toward it, the better off I think we all will be.
You sound like a lucky woman. And he sounds like a lucky man. 🙂
Courageous and smart. It is a challenge to embrace the changes that happen in an aging body. Once menopause has come and gone, the changes are rapid and can be quite startling. I accept this though as part of the process that contributes to our entire package of becoming and celebrating our human-ness. It is knowing and watching young women at their prime of beauty, health, sensuality…wasting these precious years being convinced that they are not enough…that there is something “MORE BEAUTIFUL” to aspire to…that their imperfections are reason to suffer. I think we as a culture have created a monster…communicating to women that they must strive for perfection, the perfection that graces the shiny pages of so many magazines…knowing that NOT ONE OF THOSE images is not digitally altered. The perfection we strive for is ILLUSION…and young women are dying trying to achieve it.
I commend women who embrace as opposed to accept themselves. We only get to do this once, and these precious bodies are the means to so much joy and privilege.
Embrace. Yes. Thank you for that word, Kristine. It is exactly what we need to learn to do. Embrace ourselves, not simply accept ourselves. Lovely.
BLW, I have been in an off again on again relationship with a guy 9 years younger than my 63 years. I have had surgery that went wrong and feel less than thrilled about my aging body but I still prance around naked with him and he loves my body so there you have it.
Madge – that sounds better than ‘not so bad’ to me. 🙂 But I wonder why it is that (most) men aren’t that concerned about their own scars, or bodies (some men), certainly after a certain age. They seem to flagellate themselves less, or not at all. Your gentleman sounds like a good one!
One of the most enjoyable sights is to watch a baby, who has wiggled out of the confines of his/her diaper, streak across the floor in sheer delight. It’s pure, unabashed, freedom…without any reservations. We all should feel so free. 🙂
I’ve always felt the sexiest part of a woman is her mind. Second sexiest part? Take your pick. But it’s not even close.
Wolf Pascoe said what I always think. That said, it would be a rare woman that most men wouldn’t want to see naked. There, I said it.
Good to know, Gandalfe. And Wolf!
Wonderfully, refreshingly honest providing plenty of food for thought. Thanks! 🙂
I think there’s a difference between being unnerved about nudity and being uncomfotable with your body. I’m uncomfortable with my body at all times. So it doesn’t matter if anyone sees me naked. Especially in situation when everyone in a group is naked—a European sauna, for example, or a nude beach—I enjoy being naked. That is to say, I enjoy the feeling of liberation and comfort. But that does not mean that I like my body.
My body is this awkward thing that I’m forced to deal with. It’s a trap, a limit, a finite vehicle in constant need of treatment and repair. Short of dismemberment, I cannot change much about it. Yes, I can lose weight, as I have, but I do not loathe my body because I am fat. I loathe my fat because it limits my life, as I loathe my body because it misrepresents me. No one will ever know me entirely. I cannot share the labyrinth of my mind, as a Vulcan might, with any neighbor; no one will feel or sense my fascination with things like raindrops and blades of grass. Instead they see a body lumbering around. Removing the body’s clothing changes something only for the people who have bought into this idea that bodies need to be clothed. I find it an absurd distinction. Unless it is cold outside, unless we fear that our genitals will be hit by falling hail, what are we actually covering?
In many parts of the United States, you can get arrested for showing you penis in public. Yet you can spit on the sidewalk, vomit in the bushes, fart during dinner, swear and perform obscene gestures. You can be culturally revolting, read filth, have a polluted mind, whistle at women. The man selling you high fructoses corn syrup or partially hydrogenated oils will not be arrested. You can hang advertisements that disfigure and corrupt, violate the sensiblity, misrepresent reality, blatantly lie to children and the elderly. You are allowed to claim you know God, that you are essentially God’s messenger, and that God has a message: your penis is obscene. Of course, the penis is not obscene. These ideas are obscene, inventions of profane minds whose bodies might be dressed in vestments. But remove the vestments and what remains?
That we will be shocked by a false prophet’s nudity more than his abject lies is an indictment of our culture.