The Naked Truth

I don't like being naked.

I don't like to look in the mirror, even in passing. I don't like to look down. I don't even like to write about myself being naked. It gives me anxiety. The word "naked" makes me squirmy.

I don't like to be naked when I'm alone. And I certainly don't like to be naked in the presence of others.

Imagine the horror when someone approaches me at the gym in the locker room while I'm changing. I'm shocked by this behaviour! I'm standing there, topless, and a woman will start talking to me. "Hey, B! Great class today!!!! That was awesome music. How often do you do cycle? Got plans for the weekend?"

I don't even know what to say in these situations. I'm not really comprehending the questions or banter because my brain is screaming, "RED ALERT! YOU'RE TOPLESS! COVER UP!! AVERT YOUR EYES! RUN AWAY! NO... DON'T RUN AWAY! YOU'RE TOPLESS!!!!!!"

I exude all the appropriate 'don't approach me' signs: I avoid eye contact at all costs, I change clothes as quickly as I can - being sure to NEVER expose both halves of my body at the same time, and I crouch over like I'm scared and ashamed. What about me, in this setting, says, "Yo! Come on over and let's chat over a nice bottle of water!"?

Oh sure, I try to act all cool and nonchalant when someone is talking to me in my state of undress. And when I do that, I end up looking like some sort of shameless porn star... with my hands on my hips (still topless, mind you) gesturing and carrying on like I don't have a care in the world.

I have no idea how to avoid or handle these situations without acting like a complete ass.

-B(Sting)