Nude beach trepidation - damn, again?

I’ve been through this before; the minute I book a vacation (and all vacations over the past 5-6 years have been nude vacations), there’s a feeling of anxiety that takes over. No sooner have I clicked on that Expedia button to confirm my flight and then booked my hotel do I start to see every other man who possesses what I do not - the six-pack abs, a chest twice the size of mine, calves and biceps and thighs and asses of men who’ve dedicated themselves to gym time and eschewed the burgers and fries that I manage to wolf down for dinner before moving on to do the laundry and other mundane chores.

I also notice the ease that others have, the complete confidence and effortlessness that others enjoy their time naked, without any recognition that another person could be judging them for their height or weight or age or choice of “modifications“. You can recognize these people; they walk the beach and you can tell that they are enjoying the sun and wind and they don’t notice any glances made towards them, or if they do they don’t think for a moment that someone may be picking out any flaws with their body, or else they just don’t care…

It’s so funny how I think that everyone else at any given time on a nude beach is beautiful in their own way and if I could talk to each and everyone of them I would, if for no other reason but to acknowledge or our common enjoyment of the complete freedom that comes with a clothing-optional lifestyle. I would share with them my thoughts of wanting to be able to live in complete freedom and just share with them how nice it is to be in this brotherhood of people.

I still haven’t learned completely how to do that.

I still have problems with myself naked.

I have to admit that the first minutes on a nude beach are almost painful - there’s an unease, an apprehension when I first get naked, It’s age and gravity’s toll and genetics of being too tall and skinny. It’s a discomfort in being painfully, obviously Irish around tanned bodies, and it is two steps back emotionally because the vast majority of persons around me are shocked or put off by my choice of certain body art. None of these components should prohibit me from being at the beach enjoying the feelings that only nude recreation seems to bring me, yet the combinations of differences seem to make me feel as if I am some kind of naked piriah; tattoos would be ok if I was 20, being of pasty Celtic ancestry would be acceptable if I was really buff, and maybe being near 50 would be fine if I had those 6-pack abs (and a huge penis - a whole other esteem issue that warrants a page in and of itself).

I went through this last year before my vacation and sadly I have no time to get killer tan (not possible) or get those abs that others work on for 2 hours a day after work. Instead I have 14 days to quickly talk myself into truly accepting myself not only for how I look, and to ignore that others may be critical and possibly offended by my appearance. I have to really, really grasp that this should not prohibit me enjoying this time completely unencumbered.

Funny how I could tell any other person on earth hat none of this matters because it doesn’t matter.

Someone just remind me that it doesn’t matter ;>)