"Nakedness is, more often than not, equated with vulnerability - and I’m on a bit of a mission in my life right now to continually push the boundaries of what has always made me feel secure."


I’ve always been a bit of a ham - never really minded being the centre of attention. I love engaging and entertaining people. But the prospect of being naked around others? Terrifying. Because yeah, people would be focused on me, but they would also be scrutinizing and judging; focusing not on who I am or the value in my words and actions, but the body I was born with and didn’t choose. Which is exactly how I knew I needed to participate in this project. Nakedness is, more often than not, equated with vulnerability - and I'm on a bit of a mission in my life right now to continually push the boundaries of what has always made me feel secure.


Undressing, albeit giggly, felt like I was peeling away the layers and exposing the basis of my human identity - not exactly a comforting notion. But I knew I was around people (fantastic photographer Joslyn and bosom soul friend Justine) who are completely open and nonjudgmental, and was soon able to shrug the nakedness off as just a laughable aspect of the situation. (Other laughable aspects of the situation: appropriately prancing around in my beloved horse head mask and nothing else; making Kraft Dinner for Justine, whom had never before tasted the magic of the artificially-chedder'd pasta.)


People, including myself, don’t tend to think about being nude around others in a non-sexual context - the situation just doesn't really happen. But challenging myself to separate sex and nakedness, while facing my notions of vulnerability, was an eye-opening challenge that I believe anyone would benefit from. I have very little shame that I'm encouraging some friends to participate now. (And not just because I'm curious to see them naked.)
















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