Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal." - Albert Camus
One time, I must have been just 19 and back home after my first year of college, when was with a guy I was seeing. We hung out in my room playing around with my guitar (the instrument I would eventually become jealous of because I felt he loved it more than me).and talking. He played the most beautiful, fearless music. I also plucked my notes– not beautifully or skillfully, but at least truthfully.
I even sang in front of him too; something I would never do with most people because I'm so self-conscious of my voice. But he knew how to make me feel so, so comfortable no matter what.
Eventually, we (he) tired of the sound and were ready for *cough* other music. A music that involved both of us being topless, and all the five senses. It was, it was, it was. And after, when I was feeling most calm and comfortable, he said it.
We were sitting on the floor in my bedroom in my parents house.
“You’re half naked.”
I think I must have changed my posture, crossed my legs and arms, sat a little be straighter, contorted my face into knots a little bit more.
I looked him up and down. We were both half naked.
“Uh, so are you,” I say.
I didn’t feel naked at all, I felt completely comfortable and invulnerable- that is, until he says it and I realize he is perceiving me differently than I feel. I try to explain to him that I felt totally comfortable with him. And that I think sometimes if you’re not wearing clothes, you’re still not naked.
“You’re right.” He said. “I guess I didn’t mean it that way.”
It was a bit of a revelation - it made me upset was that by pointing out “I” was half naked, and not “we” are half naked. He made me aware of the inequality and double standards between me and him just because I am a woman and he is a man. He made the power structure and the hierarchy so obvious – that I am in a position of vulnerability and he is not.
It’s a mental thing, not a physical one – mental nakedness.
***
The spirituality teacher tells us about the energy of the body.
How it can be photographed.
How it can be seen.
How it can be read.
He said seeing auras in something he could train us to do in a week. I asked him, “So, does that mean you can see and read all of our auras right now?”
“Yes,” he answered, “But it’s something you learn in time, I can teach you.”
I don’t think he understood why I asked him. I wasn’t asking because I was jealous or skeptical of his magic powers; I asked him because I wanted to know what he might recognize in me that I’m not trying to show. Nobody likes the idea of anyone having access to that without permission.
What is my aura is shit colored? What if he’s looking at me right now and thinking, “That poor, poor girl.” Or worse, “Wow, she’s going to hell.”
I immediately find myself very self-conscious- worried about what he is seeing in me that I’m trying to keep private, or even what he can see in me that I can’t see myself. I guess I have some skeletons in the closet.
I change my posture, cross my legs and arms, sat a little be straighter, contort my face into knots a little more, when he gives his reply.
More mental nakedness.
Mental nakedness is the worst. Just like we have certain guidelines for physical costuming, we have guidelines for mental costuming too, and when that costume doesn’t do it’s job, hello vulnerability.
Some of the poorer locals here in Mysore give you the most piercing evil stares you’ve ever received - daggers to the soul. They make you immediately feel like the horrible person that you’re sure is buried someone deep inside you. Even if you think there's nothing to hide you start to question it.
The same thing happened this summer. While I was teaching in D.C., I visited with my uncle, who lives in the area, for a day. He Showed me around parts of the city I haven’t seen in a while and we caught up while strolling through the American Indian Museum.
It was a pleasant visit until right before he dropped me off at work. My uncle is a handwriting analyzer (graphologist). He claims that from looking at cursive writing, he can interpret our personalities, ailments and moods – are you extroverted? Lacking self-esteem? Suffering from chronic headaches? Depressed? My uncle can see it all in your cursive. Every time I see him he wants to look at my writing.
“Give me a sample,” he demands.
“Um, no that’s OK,” I tell him.
“Come on, Please? I have to insist?”
“I really don’t want to do that.”
“Please?”
“Ugh. Do I have to?”
“Yes. You have to.”
At this point, I’m a little pissed off, but I give in and write him a few sentences on a blank piece of paper. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want him to figure out all the stuff I don’t show the world.
He starts rattling off what he interprets in my characters, “you like to live life to the fullest. Blah, blah, you may have some physical pains in your upper body. you greatly value family ties, you don’t show any signs of mental illness.”
When he’s finished, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s wrong! I’m off the hook.
But sometimes it isn’t that easy. We all spend a lot of energy trying to act normal; trying to hide personal struggles – the ones society tells us we should be ashamed of. Even this blog can be looked at as a way to tell the world, “Hi! I’m normal! Hi, I have my shit together.”
The worst thing about mental nakedness is that the feeling has to exist at all. I wish we could feel comfortable and not judged letting the world know what’s going on. That way we could help each other, stop making assumptions, and all feel a lot more comfortable and healthy.
I simply don’t see it changing any time soon. I don’t think we can stop wearing these heavy masks. I can only hope we find a way to survive despite our secrets.
I hate mental nakedness.
3 comments:
I know this is completely personal and I may not even have a right to read it, let alone comment on it, but I also feel like I can comprehend it more than most people.
We all have our skeletons. I'm not saying that to be condescending, moreso just to be supportive. I know what it's like to be completely comfortable with someone else and I also know what it's like to be completely self-conscious.
I guess mostly what I would like to say to you is as much as you close yourself off and try to not let anyone see into you, you're not alone. And because you're not alone, I sensed it.
I'm not trying to say I know exactly what you're going through or even really anything about your personality, but I do think that you might be something similar to myself, and I thought that the first time I met you.
We find each other, us lost souls. Somehow, it's like a 6th sense. In a way we know each other without knowing anything about one another.
I just want you to know you're not alone. And with me you don't have to be selfconscious, because I'm right there with you. I know we haven't talked much, certainly not about anything like this, but room 304 is always open as is my heart, mind, and ears.
~Julie
I think it's only natural that we all hide things from other people. It doesn't help to know that everyone has their secrets and problems, and that no one's perfect, but it's true.
In my experience, you go through certain times in your life when you feel these things more than others. Trust me, that doesn't make you crazy.
A lot of people think they can read and understand the things you try to hide by getting to know you. I'm not sure that anyone really can, whether they can interpret your feelings by analyzing your cursive or whether they claim to be able to read your aura. People can make their own assumptions and draw conclusions, but for the most part their opinions just help to realize the truth about who you are.
There's this quote that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn. It says we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them, and we help them in return. I don't know how true this is, but I've found my closest friends have certainly taught me something, whereas those who have made me feel self-conscious and mentally naked have done the same. I choose to surround myself with the former not because they are more valuable than the latter, but simply because they make me feel better about myself.
Finally, you're not alone. And by writing in this blog and being honest, you're showing others that they're not alone either. Sometimes the people who experience the exact same feelings you do can be found in places you would never expect.
i'm going to go a week as mentaly naked as i can be. no holds bared. i have nothing to lose, i don't like most of the people i'm around anyway. if they like me better i've been cheating my self. i wonder if i will like them better? if my life falls apart, i can always go some where else and start faking it. there's nothing like a little experment.
i think in a week i will laugh at the all the things i've keeped dressed. let this be know as nakey time.
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