Stiletto Diaries

On Hiding In Plain Sight

Posted on August 19th, 2008 in Ethics And Morality, Made In Ontario, Mating And Relating, Tie Me Up

In my rush to get my entry about Forbidden written and posted, I forgot to talk about a few interesting aspects of the weekend that I particularly enjoyed.

The first was the nudity.  I have had serious body issues for years, and I am none too keen on taking my clothes off in front of people in private, never mind a couple of dozen strangers.

However, at Forbidden, it was amazing.  I’ve never felt so free to just be myself, without any concern over being judged.  On Saturday night when I stood outside under the moon, completely naked, and not caring at all if anyone saw, it was the most incredible feeling.  It was the first time in a great while that I’ve been at peace with my physical self, and I felt…beautiful.

It’s a fascinating experience, being amongst people who are being utterly and completely themselves.  No social masks to keep up with.  If you wanted to prance around nude, leading your heavily restrained and blindfolded partner up and down the road, you could do so.  If you wanted to be fucked up the ass over a picnic table in broad daylight, you could do that too.  The energy surrounding the whole place was somewhat magical in that a feeling of camaraderie and acceptance abounded.

Leaving was depressing, despite what happened between Varick and I.  It was difficult to go from the freedom and excitement of that far off place, back to the ‘real’ world with all it’s social taboos and judgements.  I came home wearing only a tank top and a tiny skirt.  When I parked in my driveway it occurred to me that I’d better get in the house and into something more decent before one of the neighbours saw me, and I was instantly saddened.  How unfortunate it is that we can’t embrace ourselves and each other for who we are.

Granted I wouldn’t want to possibly scar any neighbourhood children with my practically bare and heavily bruised rear end, but I’d like to think that if someone saw me darting into the house dressed in so little, they wouldn’t recoil in horror.

Being at camp was so special, if only for the reasons listed above.  It was like a little bubble where we could hide away from the rest of the world, let our guards down and just have a wonderful time with each other.

I will return to camp, hopefully at least once a year, so that for a few days I can remind myself that there ARE people in the world who don’t sneer at the odd stretch mark.  People who find both bodies and souls lovely and unique, regardless of the shape, size, or color.  They put their money where their mouths are and honour whatever pieces of yourself that you care to share like you are giving them a special gift. 

I miss it already.