Category Archives: #14 Go to a nude beach (but don't touch anything or anyone or stare. Definitely don't stare.)

When opportunity strikes, you dive.

There are two things that happen when you run naked into the ocean:

1. From your towel on the sand until your naked bits are fully immersed in cold, salty water you hold your breath because somehow, even though you know better and your mother told it wasn’t true, you still hope that not breathing will somehow make you invisible.

2. As you’re nearing the water- boobs and cooch out-  you suddenly remember you’ll have to make the same trip back to your towel, making you wish you had ‘de-bushed’ with a little more effort in the shower that morning. Europe or not, being superbly manicured down there is a lot like breathing- it’s just necessary (plus, I’m pretty sure it makes you look thinner. But whatever.)

All in all, being naked on the beach went swimmingly and I’d highly recommend it to a friend.

(But for those wondering, ‘so, what’s the take-home message in all of this?’ keep reading.)

In the days leading up to my nudeness, I started to fret.

“Who the hell do I think I am?”

“Am I some closeted exhibitionist or something… something”

“Why am I being such a gaylord about all this?”

“Should I shave it off or just wax the sides?”

Decisions! Decisions!

At one point the whole damn thing just started to overwhelm me and I started to doubt my plan, my List. Everything.

Doubt. I started to DOUBT, which is bad news all around, any way you slice it.

But then, somewhere between slipping off my bottoms beach-side and strutting into the water (ok, I didn’t strut.. but I definitely sauntered) I realized this:

Sometimes you have to shed a little something to get a little something. I decided that I could keep my suit on, covering the most vulnerable parts of me, or I could strip it away, head for the ocean and dive into an opportunity to wash the stench of self-doubt off me.

So dive I did.

Other things I did in the buff included (but were not limited to):

Sun bathe


Jam out with the iPod to Prince. Of course.


Things I did not do (and highly advise against):

Bend over

Chase my wind-blown hat down the beach

Yawn and/or sneeze


(All things the middle-aged man on the towel next to me did do, by the way.)

But even the darkest moments have their silver lining. Here are those take-home messages you’ve been dying for:

1. As I stood in awe of the middle-aged man pulling off these nuddie no-nos, I felt a certain ease knowing that I wasn’t the only one in the buff. When I surveyed this little stretch of beach, I saw there were others.. I was with my people. As they say, there is strength in numbers (and maybe even a little comfort) and there’s no harm in that.

2. Lately self-doubt has been creeping into all crevices of my life and when you’re naked I guess it can even get into the nooks you didn’t know you had. But that’s no reason to let doubt make you uncomfortable- like a wedgie, you’ve got to pick it out, and then move on- even if, every now and then, it means going commando.

In the end, I considered how much worse I would feel to sit here and write this post telling you how I chickened out, that I wasn’t a woman of my word. When it boils down to it, sometimes considering how you’ll feel if you don’t take the plunge is enough to tip the scales of self-confidence in your favor so you can at least try.

Once in a while you’ve got to tug on that string that’s tying you to your doubts- it’ll bind you up, hold you back and keep you down. You’ve got to find the strength to pull it loose and set yourself free…

Even if that string happens to be on the end of a bikini.



Filed under #14 Go to a nude beach (but don't touch anything or anyone or stare. Definitely don't stare.), Stuff I know for sure

Nudity has its perks.

14. Nude Beach-it

I’ll only be 29 once, so I’m going all out- and being literal about it. This year I will dabble in Full On Frontal at a nude beach in Portugal while vacationing.

(Eh-hem… I am, shall we say, a new woman. Freshly Europed… jet-lagged. Details tomorrow. Sleep. Is. A. Must.)


Filed under #14 Go to a nude beach (but don't touch anything or anyone or stare. Definitely don't stare.), Before I Turn 30 List

So, I’m really glad I went to work today.


Size does not always matter when it comes to breasts. For many men, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, as long as they see nipples. Wear something sheer, even peekaboo. Give him a little show. Let the strap of your chemise slip. Wear pasties and slowly peel them off. He’ll be like a deer in headlights.

-taken from, Underneath It All: A Girl’s Guide to Buying, Wearing, and Loving Lingerie

So this book landed on my desk today. Sometimes I don’t even get an opportunity to crack the books I’m sent to review, but this one had a message; it called to me. The nipple reference couldn’t have come at a better time either, especially since I’ve decided that before I turn 30, I need to be nude in public.

Now before you judge, hear me out. About six years ago I took my top off at a beach (it’s ok- I was in Europe) but the whole experience left me feeling like the kind of girl who just let’s a guy touch her boobs “on top of the sweater” but never lets him go all the way. Total tease.

As my next birthday creeps, I feel quite strongly about fixing this smidge of unfinished business, and the only way to do that, I’ve deduced, is to commit to Full On Frontal. It’s the only right thing to do. Nobody likes a tease.

While Rob and I vaccay in Portugal this month (leaving this Saturday for two weeks, should have mentioned it, but didn’t want to smother; we just met) we’ve added “stop at nude beach” to our list of things to do (and you know how I feel about lists).

It’s not like I’ll be the only one there with my stuff hanging out, so I guess this isn’t exactly insightful or anything- even most of my slutty friends have done it- but it’s a big step for me, especially since in the past I’ve gone to great lengths to keep my nipples out of plain view. I even taped them down once, but I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m actually quite conservative about body parts.


I’m so certain this needs to happen that I’ve decided to put it on the List, and when something’s on the list it’s going to happen, because that’s just how I roll.

This next year is about reinvention and trying things that scare me, excite me and make me a better version of myself; somehow “jam out with your clam out” just fits the bill.

We shall see.

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Filed under #14 Go to a nude beach (but don't touch anything or anyone or stare. Definitely don't stare.)