Are You Comfortable Naked!

I want the truth. Are you comfortable with your naked body? More specifically, are you comfortable with your naked body with your partner in the room? I know every woman who is reading this has questions such as; “what kind of lighting are we talkin about here, is it day/night/candle…is he naked…or just me…do I have a tan…am I my ideal weight or do you mean RIGHT now?” STOP!

Okay specifically…”Are you comfortable being naked right now in daylight with the blinds open southern exposure at noon with your husband/boyfriend/lover (pick one!) standing or lying naked right beside you no covers no tan white skin completely natural having just ate lunch?” Okay minus the having just ate lunch, I’ll give ya that one. I know what you’re thinking, I’ve been buck naked in this scenario and that’s why I’m writing about it. You’ll never know for sure! (insert cheeky grin here) I’ll enjoy the speculation immensely…I don’t kiss and tell 🙂

For some women undressing in front of the one they love, is so horrific poking a sharp stick in their eye would be less painful! It’s some women’s worst fear to drop their dress, let alone the panties and bra that are under it, in bright light! Add the starring eyes of the one they desire, nightmare complete! I guarantee your partner is in awe at the spontaneity and confidence you ooze for doing it in the first place, not any bits you’re unhappy with.

If we make this man someone you only lust after, apparently the pain is less severe. Sweeeeet! Kidding! I find that strange, weird even that psychologically we are more comfortable stripping down with a man we don’t know. The man we love, adores us for who we are, not just our physical appearance. The man we lust is there for approximately 3 minutes…okay maybe 4…5 tops, before you see the back of his head exit stage right! lol

I know we don’t really care what the man we lust really thinks because we just want their body and mechanics for a simply pleasure! Shouldn’t we be more comfortable with the man we love because we know he will make sure we are simply pleasured! 🙂

I suppose our partners should feel good knowing we care what they think, but if they knew we held back because of our own insecurities, I’m sure they wouldn’t understand! Men desire women curves and flesh regardless of their size or shape. I don’t think there is a man out there who would turn down the woman they love if she was standing naked in front of him! It’s about love and trust.

Aging is hard on our bodies but our minds hopefully out weigh any insecurities we might have allowed to attach to our physique over the years! We know better than to be so critical, it’s a slippery slope! And if we put this kind of pressure on ourselves aren’t we putting it on our partner as well? We are our own worst enemy in this scenario ladies! Men see us as we should, from the inside out! For me, aging is about accepting who I am right now…and now…and now regardless of my size, shape or wrinkle count. If someone can’t love me for who I am, then the hell with them!

Embrace who you are ladies, naked in bright light! Natural beauty is the sexiest, ask any man! We’ve touched on The Naked Truth once before here on Tara Cronica…Tag Team Sunday: The Naked Truth, still feel the same ladies?

Okay I gotta fly, I am getting a spray tan today by a complete stranger, naked of course, just in case I find myself lying naked in daylight with the blinds open southern exposure at noon with my ______ lying right beside me naked, no covers, completely natural, if you don’t count the tan! Baby steps ladies…baby steps! Now go get nekid and rock your mans world…cause he wants to rock yours too!



Bustin’ Out! or Rack it Up to Lessons Learned!

Bonnie Johnson's PostI haven’t told many people this before but when I was a young girl living in Australia I developed a bit of a complex.  I moved down unda when I was ten years old and I was shocked to discover that most of the girls in my grade five class were already developing…you know…boobs, breasts, a decent rack.  I, on the other hand, only felt a slight sensitivity on one side.  One side! What’s up with that?  Not even a hint of swelling though.  Ya, it was a bit of an issue for me.  What’s worse is that the same young girls were all beginning to menstruate too.  They were blossoming into women at the ripe old age of ten and eleven years old.  (Looking back now I suspect high levels of hormones in their milk or meat pies)

I began to believe there was something very wrong with me.  The other girls sensed my shame and teased me about it while some kinder souls thought they were showing they cared when they asked me every month if it had come yet. I felt their eyes searching the front of my school jumper (“sweater” in canadian) for any new bumps and then either smirked or looked away in pity.

My best friend, Joanne, had the most impressive…um, chest, of all.  I remember one day walking along the highway with her and cars kept honking at her until she asked me to switch sides with her.  And yes the honking stopped.  So you see how this complex came to be.  Joanne was also still growing and she had faith that one day I would too.  I’ll never forget how thrilled I was when she gave me one of the bras she had out grown.  I would put it on stuffed with socks to see how the real ones might feel one day.  It was my first crack at “visualization”.  I also put that bra under my pillow and prayed that God would grant me the full round chest of my dreams.  I’m not kidding.  I so badly wanted to go to school bleeding and busty and prove my womanhood to those Aussies.  I guess those reasons weren’t really pure enough and so it was all denied to me until I was back on Canadian soil five long years later.

My praying and visualizing paid off and yes, my wish was granted.  I have been proud of my ‘girls’ for years, until recently.  They’ve started growing again! Along with other parts of me that I don’t want any larger, thank you.  And that other thing I wished so hard for has outgrown its purpose and has just become a big pain.  Literally.

Last night I found myself jumping up and down while dancing at my Zumba class and cursing the way my girls were threatening to blacken both eyes if I didn’t stop.  I shot annoyed glances at all the smaller chested women who I knew by the happy looks on their faces weren’t feeling the pain I was in.  The music blared “…makes me want to jump…throw my hands up and shout…” NO, it makes me want to cry and hold onto these jugs with both hands so they don’t rip off and bounce away.

So if any of you have a size B cup bra that you don’t need anymore, I have a pillow to place it under and pray over.

Lesson:  Be careful what you wish for.

huge boobs

Not really a picture of me...just how I feel sometimes