Wednesday, October 28, 2009

I call myself a nudist. Maybe I am, maybe I am not. I am sitting here writing this with nothing on but a pair of shoes and socks, my wedding ring and my glasses. I am not aroused. I am not perverted. What I am is - comfortable.
No elastic binding my waist. No belts compressing my middle. No shirt holding in the heat that makes me sweat or chafes under my arms. No underwear bunching up around those parts of me that don't like anything being bunched up around.
You might ask why I am like this and that is what I would tell you. I do not see the human body as a sexual piece of meat that my lust desires to conquer. I see the body as the person who inhabits it. It is the same parts and pieces as any other body on this entire planet. Not exactly the same size, shape or color as anyone elses, but still the same. Every man has the same parts - unless altered by trauma or surgery or defect. Every woman has the same parts - unless similar circumstances have altered them. But nevertheless, we are the same.
We look at ourselves in the mirror naked. We wash our bodies when we bathe - naked. We make love to our wives or husbands - at least partly naked. We have seen ourselves and other naked in many situations. So why is it such a horrible thing when we see someone naked other than ourselves or our spouse? It boggles my mind and bothers me at the same time.
The saddest thing is that we pass these feelings on to our children just by our actions and words. We are raising a new generation of people that will be in fear of the human body and will perpetuate unknown acts of outrage against something that we all have and should respect.
More later...

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