Locker Room Talk

When does being naked get complicated? My kids used to LOVE being naked, just completely bare-assed uninhibited. They called it “nuding.” It’s a verb, usually used as a present participle or a gerund, as in, “I’m fine. Just nuding.” Or pointing and laughing at a guy jogging through the park with his shirt off, "BAHAHAHA! Look at that guy! HE'S NUDING!"

My kids were entirely comfortable going au naturel at home at all times. I launched Naked Manners around the time they were 8, 9, and 10 years old. I wasn’t very strict; nobody ever got in trouble for intermittent streaking. I was mostly concerned that visiting friends would get surprise peep shows. In retrospect, I was less concerned with the children’s embarrassment than with getting in trouble with their parents. Parents can be a drag.

My oldest son was the LEAST demure. Shutting the bathroom door was an absurd extravagance he had no time for. I tried gentle reminders. I tried shutting the door FOR him. I tried yelling and charging him money every time I saw his butt. Nothing worked. Duh. Love and Logic, anyone? Give me a break. I was just a beginner at the time.

One afternoon, I was putting towels away in the kids’ bathroom and walked right into the middle of Turd Time. “Hi, Mom.” At that moment, my child was totally unconcerned and unapologetic while MY SOUL WAS IN DANGER OF BEING CRUSHED WITH DESPAIR! The Holy Spirit knew that I needed encouragement and presented me with an idea. I calmly put the towels away and left. A moment later, I returned with my camera and snapped a picture of my sweet son as he baked his keester cakes.

Me:  “I just figured that if you didn’t care to close the door, it would be OK for me to take your picture.”

Sweet Child of Mine: “DON’T put it on Facebook!”

Goodness, there’s QUITE ENOUGH crap on Facebook.

By the time my kids got to high school, they all rowed crew, so they wore spandex every day. In case you are not acquainted with rowing spandex, it’s VERY short and snug. It’s also usually not QUITE sturdy enough to keep the beans and franks from spilling out all over creation. No matter how famished my kids were after practice, I refused to serve dinner until the boys put on shorts. “Put your wiener away before dinner, please.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been as comfortable being naked as my kids are. Everyone has their own personal set point for comfort in the raw, I suppose. For instance, one of my dogs likes wearing clothes; the other does not. Here is a picture of Ollie with Buddy-the-Nudist.

In the gym locker room, I tend to limit my nudity. I used to get dressed as quickly as possible until I turned 40 and stayed entirely too hot to get dressed right away. Perhaps this is what Bryant McGill was referring to when he said, “All discomfort comes from suppressing your true identity.” So to stay true to myself, I now feel free to remain as naked as necessary.

I admire women who are so comfortable being naked. To an extent. I kind of feel like some people are TOO comfortable being naked. There’s a woman at my gym who exercises in the locker room after her shower. Naked. She and her big, fake boobies. Now, I have nothing against fake boobies, but sometimes they can be startling when seen in the wild. I regularly observe this woman applying lotion while doing squats. Not parallel squats, mind you, but plie squats. I try VERY HARD to avoid looking at her. But one day I could not avert my eyes aggressively enough to escape witnessing her transition from Naked Squats into FULL WARRIOR POSE. Ohhhhhmmmmmm.......... 

I guess it’s a good thing she didn’t go into Down Dog. Or at least that I didn't catch that show. Namaste.

I’m kind of quiet by nature, working things out with conversations in my head as I get dressed for the day. I know I’m not the only one. But while my brain conversations are inaudible to outsiders for the most part, others talk to themselves out loud. One morning, a woman only wearing a towel burst into the room where I was sitting.

“It’s so HOT in here! Aren’t you hot? Oh, my God, it’s SO! HOT! I don’t know how you can stand it. I’ve got to get out of here!”

And just like that, I found myself alone again in the quiet of the sauna. Frankly, it WAS pretty hot in there.

Then there are women who talk TOWARD me, but not really TO me. A stranger started this conversation with me:

She: Whew! I'm so tired!

Me: Oh, yeah. Me, too.

She:  I didn't sleep well last night.

Me: That's always hard. 

She: My husband has been complaining about a weird smell in our bedroom, and we've looked everywhere for it and can't find where it's coming from. I've washed the sheets, changed the pillows, vacuumed twice, and he still complains. Honestly, I think it's HIM that smells.

Me: 

Another time I've been stumped for a response:

Excited Woman:  “Are you Korean? I saw you at the track meet!!”

To be fair, I WAS at a track meet that week. But ALSO to be fair, WHAT the WHAT???

And one more: A woman swiveled me around by the shoulders and exclaimed, "Is that a picture of China? You're Chinese, right? Is that China? IT LOOKS LIKE CHINA!" The picture she was referring to was this design on my jacket. You tell me if it looks like China.

Then there are bewildering conversations I overhear, such as the woman telling her friend that she’d forgotten her underpants. Now, I have BEEN there. So many times, in fact, that I keep a pair of Emergency Underpants in my gym bag at all times. But the amusing ingredient of this story is that this lady was Phillipino, so she said, “I bore-got my bantee.” AND THEN she laughed SO LOUD and went on that she just wore “no bantee” for the rest of the day.

I have heard this same woman talk about her husband who drinks too much beer and doesn’t appreciate her cooking. Her husband also doesn’t like her using her laptop in bed, so she sleeps in a different room now. Wow, maybe it was cold of me to laugh about her bantee.

Speaking of underpants, I followed a fellow into the gym one morning just as his underpants plopped out of his bag. "Oh, no!" I called out. "You dropped.....something." He turned around and scooped up his skivvies. He only made BRIEF (get it??) eye contact and didn’t say anything to me. He seemed embarrassed. But nothing to be embarrassed about, Bruh. At least you're not naked right now.

Little by little over the past fifteen years at this gym, I've become progressively more comfortable with wearing nothing but a smile. My unsuppressed true self is grateful for my miraculous body that baked three beautiful, delightful humans FROM SCRATCH! Who the hell cares what anyone else thinks of my body! AND ALSO my opinion of others' bodies is relevant to nothing.

Let loose. Bare it all. Accept your body and unclothe your true identity. ENJOY NUDING!! However, there's no need to get aggressive with your breast implants. AND PLEASE. Remember to put your wiener away during dinner.

I’d love if you would leave me a comment below to let me know what you think!

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