3.5
January 20, 2015

My Soul Wants to be Naked.

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Caution: f-bombs below! 

I always wanted to be someone else.

But—after far too many excruciating years of trying to be less sensitive, more practical, more intellectual, less bubbly, more serious, less serious, thinner, curvier, more spiritual, less spiritual, perfect, less perfect—

I say enough.

It’s fucking enough.

My soul wants to be naked.

I have stretched and stretched till’ I’ve finally snapped back to what was there all along:

Me.

So I say: enough.

My soul wants to be naked.

It’s time to settle in, rip those thick, crusty masks off our exhausted souls and get down and dirty with this fucking crazy, amazingly beautiful journey we call life.

How?

How do we actually do this?

I don’t know. Not completely.

But, certain moments, if we let them unfold to us, are incredibly wise teachers.

I had an unexpected moment like this few days ago.

It was a mundane Tuesday afternoon. I was overly-caffeined, under-rested, and the sun was just starting to set behind the snow-capped mountains. I was driving to work, and I caught my own reflection in the rear-view mirror.

In that tiny moment, that fraction of a second, that precious millisecond, I saw me.

I really saw me.

I looked right into myself and saw shimmery pink lips curl up into a genuine, no-holds-barred, no-bullshit smile.

I saw my slightly wet, ever-messy blonde hair, glimmering in the sunlight, each lock happily basking in the golden beams.

I saw beauty.

I saw happiness, pain, joy, disappointment, failure, success, shock, excitement, and love.

Yes, I saw these things, but mostly,

I saw me.

I saw a girl who almost lost herself, but is finding herself fiercely.

I saw a girl who is courageously braving her inner demons, getting real and raw every day.

I saw a girl who is learning to love her weaknesses and flaws tenderly.

I saw me.

And, for the first time ever, I wasn’t disgusted or scared.

I didn’t want to turn away.

I felt beautiful in this deep, deep way.

I felt stripped down, contently raw, like I didn’t have to try so hard.

I felt this subtle, euphoric freedom in being without my usual facades.

Because my soul, fuck, she longs to be naked.

She longs for those profound moments when I see that I am enough, just as I am.

That I always was.

Yes.

Because we are all enough, just as we are.

We are perfectly imperfectly, brilliantly flawed and wonderfully human.

Shit, it’s beautiful.

We are so beautiful.

Our souls want to be naked.

It’s time.

I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

 

 

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Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Renée Picard

Image: bark at Flickr 

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