Think about it:
How many of your dearest friends have seen you naked? Of how many of your closest friends to you know if they have a soft skin?
Or moles on their bellies, or freckles of their shoulders?
How many of your closest family members have you seen naked? Do you know the shape of their breasts, or where they have hair?
Have you ever seen their scars?
Do you even know how they really feel about their bodies?
Have you ever held them really close? Have you ever been held by them really close?
I’m glowing right now. The afterglow of an evening with three friends, where we massaged each other. Six hands on one body. Naked.
Vulnerable and open. Trust. Love. No judgments but warmly welcoming all shapes, skin, scars, hairs and freckles. Playfully enjoying each other’s company without crossing boundaries, needing something – or fear.
It wasn’t my first evening like this. I’ve seen most of my friends naked. Hell, I cuddle them naked sometimes and some I kiss.
It feels so normal.
I wish it was.