Nakedness. There is a part of me that always feared any type of nakedness. But recently I experienced one form of it I did not expect, and my reaction surprised even me.
I always saw many flaws in my physical self so did not have much confidence in showing or seeing myself naked. With a new relationship I gained a lot of weight and was even less happy with myself. Having lost all or most of it (along with the boyfriend), I have now recovered my old self and gained a new attitude towards my body. Perhaps age has finally provided me with a less self-conscious and more accepting me.
I have always worn my heart and my emotions on my sleeve. However, that emotional nakedness has not always served me that well, sometimes leaving me wide open to not always constructive criticism and judgments. I justified it by saying that those who were with me knew exactly where they stood at all times. But if people used it against me or were mean-spirited I was invariably terribly hurt. So through the years I have learned to be a bit more reserved. Or maybe not, since this blog may be proof that I have not progressed much in that sense. Ay!
I am an orphan. Bear with me, the connection with nakedness will soon become apparent. Yes, pun is intended. As I said, I am an orphan –perhaps not too surprising considering chronology. But my mom passed on January 5, 2010 and one month and a day later on February 6, 2010 my father followed her. I am an only child. It was hard to assimilate that I was now truly alone. I was left with a need to still feel connected to them, primarily with my mom whom throughout my life and hers I have had a very strong bond with. I did not want to make a spectacle of my grieving and wear black for a year as traditionally, women did in my country. And as I pondered I twirled my mom’s wedding band in my hand and slipped it on my left hand on the wedding finger. It fit me perfectly and I suddenly knew how to keep them with me. I would wear it for a year in their honor.
A year passed. Then, a year and half, and I told my friend that maybe it was time to let them go and take it off. He said he liked the idea that I was, by wearing it, proclaiming I was off-limits. So I left it on. Two years and a day later, on the anniversary of my mom’s passing, I reached for the ring and took it off. It was time. I thought I had experienced nakedness but until now, I had never felt this naked. I would constantly rub my fingers together trying to find the missing band. Maybe it was not time. After four days I gave up and put it back on. I welcomed it – and them – back. A kind, understanding and wise woman suggested I wear it in another manner. I may try that next…
This blog was started by the desire to take you with me on my exploratory trip to Southeast Asia (BLT+) and it turns out that I am taking you on more than one journey. You are now part of my exploration of self as well as that of the world. Hope you don’t mind.
We are only 16 days to departure on a Cathay Pacific flight. That, at least, I hope you are ready for!