The Joys of Naked as a Child, Then Lost.

The Joys of Naked, as a Child, then Lost.

I am often asked “Why Nekkid?”

To Me, in hind sight, the answer is simple. Freedom. I had this freedom as a child. That freedom was taken away at the age of twelve. But it is far more complex than just simply freedom from clothes. To me, Nekkid is more than “just not wearing clothes”. I am fully aware that most humans in America view nekkid as solely sexual. I do not understand, nor do I embrace this same view. I also am aware that most view any form of naked as Illegal. The Irony in this is: In most places, simply naked is not at all illegal. It becomes illegal when one makes it sexual, lewd, or obscene. Simply naked is none of these. Sadly, most choose to believe it is in fact all the above. Due to that common belief, anyone choosing to be simply naked, would risk arrest, being labeled some sort of sexual predator, or have labels attached to them that would forever damage that person. It is incredible how the innocent person is treated as a criminal in our society. The person who is completely legal in being naked, would be arrested, because even most police officers do not understand the laws. There could never be any charges filed, but that person would already be labeled, and the damage would be permanent.

What is Freedom?:
Freedom carries away many extremely heavy, and damaging things when it comes. I often hear people speak of “freedom” in terms of what life in The United States is. I have always been a U.S. Citizen, yet Freedom is something I did not have. This is a different kind of freedom. This freedom is not achieved through any kind of military, or laws, or treaties, declarations, or not even festive parades, or tying a yellow ribbon around an old oak tree. I believe that for there to be true freedom, we must embrace acceptance, do no harm to anyone (ourselves included), and not make something that is so simple, natural, and the way God made each and every one of us into something that it is not. Everybody wants to rally round the easy ones, and say they support freedom. But Do they Really Have Freedom?

As an adult, freedom is something I could not achieve. I had freedom as a child, so I knew what freedom was, and knew I needed to find it again. I was in the worst kind of prison, and could not find my way out. Freedom is not exactly free, but it is available for any who have the courage, strength, determination, and support to achieve it. I had None of these. (Or so I thought.) Also, far from simple was the path that led me to eventually re-gain my freedom. It is a path of the most complex obstacles one could imagine. Those obstacles include guilt, shame, humiliation, bullying, rejection, isolation, self-doubt, depression, fear, stigmas, and having to undo all the damage, and protective barriers I had built around my hideous body. (Or, more appropriately, what others had told me all my teenage, and adult life was a hideous body). Those obstacles also include helping those around you find acceptance, trust, understanding, and overcome their own fears, doubts, and all the heavy things they had built around their own reasons for not either wanting to see, or be seen nekkid. It involves showing by example, trust, and care. I had to learn to not only accept who I am, but also enjoy what I am. I had to learn that I was in charge of how I felt, and how I perceived myself. I had to learn that the human body was not grotesque, nor obscene. Far too long in life, I had allowed myself to fall victim to the people who bullied, teased, and made my life a living hell. I had learned how to hide who I am just to keep others happy. (Or more appropriately, to keep them from bullying me.) I had to learn that most of those who heaped the pain upon Me, were in fact the ones who were suffering the most. I had to learn that they were insecure, and scared. I had to learn that it was up to me take that away from them, and never give them that power again. If they could not have the power to harm me, then they were no longer in charge of me. Gaining my own freedom is The Absolute most difficult thing I have ever attempted in life. Gaining my own freedom was also the Most rewarding, positive thing I have ever done in my life! The only way to take that power and control away was to show them I accepted my body. This was my body. I was not ashamed. I am Human. This is how God made me. To NEVER be willing to hide, just to please them. I had to learn how to show the world I HAD MY FREEDOM.



THE FREEDOM I KNEW AS A CHILD:

At Home:

From what I have been told, living life nekkid was something I did long before I knew it was a choice! I am told that when I was a toddler, They could not keep me in my clothes. I Do have many memories of being nekkid as often as I could possibly get away with in much of my childhood. Mom always taught us that seeing naked people was no big deal. (That is, unless We were the ones naked) For reasons I never understood, we were taught “naked was fine”, “no big deal”, “they are just without clothes”…. Unless it was those of us who lived in our own home. This was, of course, not always true, so there was much confusion about the rules of nekkid. Some days we could play nekkid, and even our friends would be nekkid, and nobody cared. Some days, Mom and Dad would be naked, and nobody cared. Other days, it was forbidden. We would go to the neighborhood swimming pool, and when we got home, Mom would have us strip in the garage, so we did not drip in the house, but we were supposed to cover-up in a towel to go inside to get dressed (even though all of us, and our friends stripped naked together and changed into our swimsuits before going, and then stripped off our wet suits all together in the garage.) When it would rain, We delighted in getting to go out splashing in the puddles in our fancy yellow rubber raincoats, and rubber boots. Mom would have us wear only our underwear underneath, so our clothes would not be soaked. We would Run, and stomp all up and down the street, soaking ourselves, even inside our coats. As soon as we were at the playground, we knew we were out of Mom’s sight. That is when the total bliss would begin! We stripped off the raincoats, and underwear, keeping on only the boots, which were totally filled with sloshing water! We would laugh, and play, and run all around totally nekkid, soaked from the rain, and have not a care in the entire world. Of course, Every neighbor saw us, and Not a one of them cared that we were naked. (We lived in a great community, where everyone knew one another, and also kept an eye on each other’s kids.) I am sure that they did tell Mom, but nothing was ever said, so we just totally enjoyed the bliss. Anyone who ever tried to put on wet underwear knows how difficult that is. So, we would put our soaked underwear in the coat pocket (which was also filled with water!) and play, and stomp, and splash all the way back. We would arrive back home once we were totally exhausted, cold, and ready for a hot bath. Mom would always greet us in the garage, and we knew that was the place to strip, so we always did… hoping she would not notice we were not wearing our underwear. She would always have the hot bath ready. No matter who was there, which friends joined us, or even if there were other house-guests, This was one of those times naked was totally acceptable. We Stripped, and went through the house to the bath, and all climbed in the tub together. Yes, we all went through the kitchen, dining room, past the family room, and living room in full-naked view of any and all who were there, and nobody seemed to care. Dad never really had any hang-ups one way or another about naked. Sometimes he would be, and sometimes not. It was never a big deal to him. He never seemed to even blink if anyone else was, and He never seemed uncomfortable about it.

In Nature:

As kids, even though Mom had funny rules about nekkid in our own home, we often enjoyed naked freedom when we were in nature. The back yard also seemed to not have rules about nekkid. We were often found playing naked in the yard with assorted friends, and neighbors. Some of the greatest joys we found were when we could bury one another in our sandbox, or create a mud-hole to play-in. Camping seemed to remove all barriers that existed at home. Even the rivers, lakes, and beaches often naked was completely acceptable. Of course, we learned early in life that we had to go with the flow, of what would be permissible, depending on who we were with on any given day. But usually, nobody even blinked twice, or was surprised to see somebody nekkid. Adult, or kid, it did not seem to matter. I learned that nature took away most barriers, and restrictions that we were bound by at home.

At neighbors:

The same was true at most of our friend’s houses. Many of the families we were friends with would often be naked at random times. It was just considered a normal thing in the home, and considered normal among people who were friends. Nobody cared if you were a boy, or a girl, nor did it matter if the adult was a man or a woman. People saw one another naked. There was never anything inappropriate, or harmful. It was just simply life. It did always seem odd to me that seldom did any of the parents show nudity when the other parents were around, even though it was well-known nakedness occurred in the other homes. It almost seemed that for some reason adults were not allowed to be nekkid in another adult’s home. That was different in Grandma’s neighborhood.



At Grandma’s:

As kids, at Grandma’s house, the rule was simple: If Mom was not there, we could play nekkid in the back yard, in the bedrooms, bathrooms, in the rec-room, Grampa’s workshop, the carport, even the front yard- on occasion, the laundry room, and at Grampa’s Bar. The only places we were not to be nekkid was in the kitchen, dining room, or Living room. (But even those were occasionally allowed.) Those were considered “the Formal” Rooms. Everyone who ever visited Gramma’s knew they might see a naked person. Even when she entertained in a formal manner, it was known that outside those formal settings, nekkid was acceptable, and even welcomed. The formal rooms looked over the yard, and nobody ever complained. So, we got A LOT of nekkid-freedom at Gramma’s house! Grandma was often nekkid in her room, or the pool area, but Grandpa never was. Even when Grampa and Gramma’s friends were naked, Grampa would not be. He never had a problem with anyone being naked, and was quite social around everyone, naked, or not, yet for whatever reason he had, He would Never be seen Naked, Except One time that I can remember. And that one time, we happened to both become Naked Smurfs! You can read about that summer, here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2012/05/summer-grampa-and-i-became-naked-smurfs.html . Grampa usually was not naked, unless showering, or changing. He never hid when he was doing these, but would not go about naked. The whole back yard was visible to the neighbors, but they were often naked, too, so nobody cared about anyone being seen nekkid. We often had friends over with us, or neighbors of Grandma’s would be over. Many of our friends would often go naked. Some of them did not care to be nekkid along with us, but they never complained that we were. There were occasions when a friend was not comfortable seeing others naked, and we would gladly wear our suits. I was naked as much as possible. Grandma, and Grandpa’s House was always comfortable, welcoming, and seldom judge-mental. There were no barriers. It did not matter if someone was young, or old, male, or female. At Grandma’s house, every single human was treated the same. Nobody even blinked, whether it was an infant, child, teenager, young adult, adult, or even an old person. It was Never seen as anything to be ashamed of, or in any way sexual. Nobody ever accused anybody of being inappropriate around children. The parents of our friends never once called us perverts, or thought of us as inappropriate. They also enjoyed the freedom their children were allowed to enjoy. There were photographs taken, and nobody ever once thought of it as child-pornography! Our society, as we knew it, was not hung-up on making nekkid into a bad thing. None of us were ever touched inappropriately, nor did we ever have anything sexual happen just from us being nekkid. We got soo much joy out of doing all the things we would do anyhow, but nekkid! Many times, it was fun to watch others discover this joy, freedom, and learn that naked was actually safe, free, and took away so many barriers in life. Also funny, and sometimes surprising was the eagerness of some to strip-off! (Often the ones you least expected, were the happiest nekkid.) It was also interesting to watch the surprise, and to some, the horror of them seeing Grandma, or any other “old” adult come out the back door, fully naked, and just walk to the pool, and go for a swim. Often, it was the adults who had the most hang-ups about seeing other people naked, or even to be seen nekkid by others, and it was always fun to watch them as they found out how easy it was to accept, and be accepted. It was always fun to see how they soon forgot they were naked. Even though Mom had her funny rules about it at home, and we were supposed to be nekkid at Grandma’s only when Mom was not there, often Mom would come over, and see us, and would just laugh.

Freedom taken Away at Age 12:

This freedom and joy continued until I was twelve. Most would guess that twelve is when I hit puberty, and it was because of that. I wish it were that simple. The Main event that changed for me when I was twelve was our sudden moving from California to Oregon, and the new environment that came with that move. My world got rocked, twisted, and turned completely upside down. Everything changed after that.
You can read more about "when My family moved out of state when I was at Summer Camp", Here: http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/surprise-your-family-moved-out-of-state.html
Or about suddenly finding myself in a new state, and new city in my blog titled "welcome to Portland, Oregon" : http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/09/to-portland-oregon.html
The Sudden move was life-altering, but there was more:

(Be forewarned: This paragraph contains a Very Disturbing event that happened to me)

Also, significant, and life-altering was an event that happened a few months before we moved: At twelve, another boy, a year older than me, attempted to sexually molest me. I say attempted, because I would not allow it. He and my brother were riding toward me in the alley. He stopped, and blocked me in a corner. My brother kept riding until he was halfway down the alley, then stopped to watch, grinning the whole time. The boy managed to get my pants down, and attempted many bad things that made me feel suddenly not good when naked. I understood right and wrong, and I knew better than to allow someone to do wrong in that manner to me. I resisted, and struggled with every ounce of my tiny body. I was a tiny kid, and this boy was big! I could not get him away from me, but I could resist his attempts, by keeping every muscle in my body tense, so he could not insert anything into me. He attempted everything you could imagine, and even tried to get me to do the same to him, but I would not have anything to do with any of that. I would not touch him, or willingly allow his touches. My head was spinning, and I could not form a clear thought to get away from him. At one point, I even had a rock in my hand, but he got that away from me. He had me on the ground, and did not care that he was hurting me, scraping on the gravel, and getting me dirty. He was a friend of my brother, and my brother watched as this happened in the alley a block from our house. Among the hundreds of things going through my mind was the one of “why does my brother hate me so much, and why is he always trying to have others hurt me?” The boy was frustrated, and threatened to beat me up if I did not allow him to do what he wished. I told him to go ahead and beat me up, because that was more acceptable than what he was hoping to do. I’d been in plenty of fights, already, and yes, I was scared, but knew that no matter what, eventually someone would come down this alley, and stop him. He threatened to steal my bike. He never beat me up, and then tried to make me smoke with him. I also refused to do this. He got frustrated, and shoved me to the ground, and rode off on his bike. He did not steal my bike when he left. My brother had gone by now. Not only did I feel dirty from this, I was also dirty, and scraped-up, humiliated, confused, scared, and hated my brother even more than I ever had. I pulled my pants up, and ran to our house with my bike, and told Dad what happened. My brother was not home. He told me to go shower. After the shower, He told me to never tell anyone about it. He took me out driving to find this boy. But I quickly learned he was not really trying to locate him. He also never said a word to my brother. That was The First thing that started to change my view about nekkid, and free. It was also the first time I was confused about “doing the right thing”. Why had Dad not done anything about this? He was the (retired) police officer! Why would he allow this? It was the first time I started to not trust other people.

I Learned early in life that naked was wonderful, and free… most of the time….. At age twelve, I learned it can be used for bad things.

My fear, and distrust of groups of boys:

As much as I loved Nekkid, I Would Never Be naked, or even be seen changing clothes in any area where there was a group of boys. (Even long before that boy tried to molest me) A couple of my own friends, yes, but a group, never! And If I had a choice, Never around My brother. This was especially troubling at Public Pools, Summer Camps, or even other camping trips, outdoor events, or road-trips with large groups. I would go to great effort to change inside a sleeping bag, or find a stall to change in (hoping nobody saw under the door, or through the cracks), always wear my swimsuit under my clothes, or even go as many days as possible without changing. I would find ways to get up extra early, so I could be changed before anyone else woke-up. Why, would it matter if there was a group of boys? I do know that something was done to me at a very early time in my life that made me very uncomfortable around many boys. All my life, I have sought the answer to this. My memory of most events in my life is incredibly vivid, and detailed. But this is something I do not have memory of. I have asked, and tried to understand. Maybe, the memories of what happened are best if I do not know. I do not know who did something to me, or what happened. I did often notice that there were certain people in my life that would never be seen naked, nor would they stick around when others were playing naked. I always found that strange. (This is different than those who would not be naked, but would still be accepting, and social with those who were.)

I learned early in life that Most Boys are extremely mean, cruel, hurtful, and not nice in any way. I found that a few were actually nice, and not mean, and those were the ones I was friends with. It is no surprise that I had more friends who were girls, than boys. And, ironically, the girls did not mind if I was naked, nor was I ever embarrassed to be seen naked by them. They were not mean. The girls accepted me, and enjoyed who I was, and allowed themselves to relax, play, and be free... the same as me. The last thing I was about to allow even more of was ridicule, vulnerability, and the chance to be caught, metaphorically speaking, ‘With My Pants Down’ around the boys who would be as mean as possible to me. I have always hated the way most boys behaved, and being naked around them just was not a comfortable thing.

7th grade: a new home, a new state, a new school, and a whole new level of mortal humiliation:

All my life, I have always been active, and actually enjoyed physical fitness, activities, being healthy, and learning about these things. At age 12, I started 7th grade. There was a class called P.E., which stood for “Physical Education”. It was mandatory, but I thought it was about learning more on a healthy lifestyle, and fitness. Imagine my horror when the very first day of being in a brand-new school, where I did not know a single other person, to find out the rest of what happens in P.E. All the boys have to go into a locker room without walls, doors, stalls, or anything else to find cover in, and change clothes. Everybody changes clothes at the same time, just inches from the other boys, and the teacher is standing there watching you change, too! Then after class, we all are marched back into the locker room, made to strip, and all take showers together in one big wide-open shower with a dozen shower-heads. The teacher (coach) stood right there, yelling at each of us, ordering us what to do, and making us stand right next to each other, and shower all together, with absolutely no walls, barriers, or even an inch of space between each other. Then you line-up, all together, cold, naked, wet, humiliated, and he hands you a “towel”. The towel they hand you is barely bigger than a washcloth, extremely thin, and smells like it has never been washed! And then you hurry to get dressed in your school-clothes so you can make it to your next class on time. The behavior of all the boys in the locker room was THE WORST I had ever been exposed to (Ha! Quite literally Exposed!!) I could not believe how horrible those people were! Even in front of the teacher, the inappropriate ways they would handle others, and themselves was the absolute most horrifying feeling ever. To all these boys, and even the teacher, this was considered normal. Nobody had ever taught these people to keep their hands to themselves. Then, in the next class, many of the same boys were in there. They were mean. It seems I was the only new kid. The rest in that class all knew one another. They talked about me. About how skinny I was. They talked about how I looked like a skeleton. About how my parts that designated me as ‘male’ looked compared to theirs. They talked about how I was not as developed as they were. They talked about how they had hair in places I did not. They talked about how scared I looked, and how freaked-out I was by their “normal” activities. Even the girls enjoyed their stories. This was going to be The Worst School! They were MEAN! That day, the school counselors got to know me. But the counselors did not see anything they thought was abnormal for junior high kids. They told me I was just new to this area, and would get used to it.

Walking home from school that first day, I learned that some of those mean boys that were in my P.E. class were also our neighbors. This meant that they were walking the same place I needed to walk. They took the opportunity to “establish” the pecking-order in the neighborhood. That day, I learned a new route home from school. It was easily a half-mile further to walk, but was well worth it. After I got home, I met some of the other neighbor kids. Oh, lucky me! All boys. Every house in the entire surrounding neighborhood All Boys…. And there was one girl. (I later learned there was another girl, too) All the boys were into football, basketball, fighting, wresting, and hunting. They all shot guns around the neighborhood on a regular basis. There were no fences around the yards. Everyone felt they could go through any yard any time they wanted. That meant there was absolutely no place I could escape to. There was absolutely no place I could call my own. There was no respect for personal boundaries. Inside the house, I had to deal with my brother. Outside, I had to deal with the neighbors, and at school, I had to deal with mean bullies.

Finding a safe hiding place:

All of a sudden, everybody I was around made me feel insecure, and want to curl-up, and hide. Hide my body, hide my spirit, hide my joy. Joy, fun, and freedom were not accepted in this place. My entire family suddenly was not accepting of naked anymore. Suddenly naked was shameful. I did not understand these sudden changes. It did not take long for me to withdraw from being social at all in this environment. I managed to create a tree-fort in a tiny little tree in our yard. This gave me a little place I could escape to. My Brother could not climb trees well, so he did not try. I built it solid enough, that I could block the opening from the inside, and none of the neighbors could get in easily. Oregon was not as good a place as California for staying outdoors for long periods of time. It rained a lot. On rare occasions, I could spend many hours, and even sometimes sleep in my tree-fort. That was a wonderful thing for me. I would get naked in my tree-fort. I had to keep it a secret because I was no longer in a safe environment. I was only safe inside my Tree-Fort. I also met the farmer, named Hank, who lived behind us. (My tree hung over his property). He was a nice guy. He would allow me to go anywhere on his property. He often started talking to me while I was in my tree. He gave me some boards to use, and many times I would help him with his farm. None of the neighbor boys were allowed on his property, and my brother had no interest in going there, so this became another safe place for me. We got to know each other, and he was very safe, and comfortable. He said he knew I was often naked in my tree, and I was welcome to be as naked as I felt comfortable in his property. His barns were wonderful, and he had many very large trees I could make a cozy-spot under. Often, when it was rainy, I would take my homework into one of his barns, be naked, and do my homework in a cozy, safe place. He had a large family that lived there, and I met most of them over time, but they seldom came out in the farm area. They used the yard near the house, mostly.

Secretly naked… or so I thought:

Hank knew my “hiding spots” and would often come and chat. The first few times, I would attempt to cover-up, but he always told me to relax. I soon realized he was the most comfortable, safe man I had ever been around, and I never tried to hide, or cover when he came around. He reminded me of my Grandpa. He never did anything unusual toward me, nor did he even seem to notice I was naked. I had found my safe place, and enjoyed every minute of my “secret” freedom. I say “secret” because I believed he was the only one who knew. It turned out that he informed his whole family, so none of them would accidentally make me uncomfortable. I had gotten so used to hearing him around, and not getting alarmed when I heard footsteps, that I was a bit surprised to look up and see his wife and daughter offering me some iced tea one summer day. I had been “hiding” under a tree reading for many hours, and they were concerned that I might not have enough liquid. I quickly tried to cover up, and his daughter started giggling, and shoving the glass of iced tea toward me, saying she had seen me naked every time I was out here, and she would not have come out if it was going to make me uncomfortable. I was a bit surprised! But I also could tell that her giggles were not making fun of me, but of a humored acceptance. I looked at her mom for reassurance that this was ok. She Smiled, and nodded her head. I was a bit baffled, but they managed to show they were sincere, and asked if they could join me. They sat down under the tree, and we just talked. They said I could stay naked, but they did not undress, which was fine with me! I had met hank’s wife before, and only heard that he had an “older daughter”. It turns out that she is in high school (I was in 7th grade). Neither one of them ever looked at my body as if it was a bad thing. While we talked, I was very aware of my vulnerability, and watched for the slightest sign that they might turn this against me somehow. I was extremely cautious how I went about life now. While we talked, there was not one single moment when either of these two ever made me uncomfortable. It was clear that the naked body was not something they saw as shameful. They explained how Hank had told them about me, and even told them where I liked to “hide”, so they could help me by not scaring me off. After sitting and talking a while, learning that they were just as safe and wonderful as Hank was, they asked if I wanted a tour of the house. I got my clothes on, and we went for a walk. It was a beautiful old farm-house. It even had a basement (which was full of all their home-grown stuff in glass jars they had canned themselves!), and a full-attic, with windows too! They showed me all the big rooms, and the little nooks. I was in love with the attic! We went back up there, and hank’s daughter showed me the window where she had her desk set-up. This was her own “hiding spot”. Then she explained that from her window, she could see the entire property, clear out to my tree-fort. No Wonder she had seen me nekkid every time I was out there! I sat in the chair, and looked out, then looked back at her. She just shrugged, and grinned. The grin, and the calm silence showed me two things that I would cherish forever. She accepted me, and even enjoyed that she could watch me out there. She had "secretly" watched me when I thought I was 'hiding' and naked. This was not a threat, or even bad. I was just a little boy, needing a safe place, and knew she did not see me in any other way. The smile she gave showed that she understood, and enjoyed my 'secret freedom'. I asked her how many others watched me. She told me that a few of her own friends also knew, and enjoyed seeing me find security, but that none of them ever had a problem with it. She told me I am safe there. She gave me a hug before we walked out. This, too, was wonderful! (I was not used to getting hugs, and to have someone who had just revealed she knew so much about me, and saw me often in my most vulnerable give me a loving, caring hug made a huge impact on me!) So, I Learned that I could indeed be nekkid, and safe in a mean world, as long as I kept it a “Secret”.

My Sister has Always been a safe person. She Never made me feel uncomfortable. She never minded if I was naked, and was the one person I never had to hide from. Right after moving to Oregon, She made sure she was Never seen naked anymore. Suddenly, she always hid, always went into a bathroom, and locked the door even just to change clothes. I also did not understand this sudden change in the one person who had shared as much of the joys of nekkid as I had. I tried to ask her about it, but it was suddenly an off-limits topic. Even when she suddenly changed, she still accepted me, no matter what. She Never made me uncomfortable about if she saw me nekkid. Often I was home alone, or it would just be me and my sister. I would often be naked for brief periods of time in the house, but Always nervous someone else would come home, so it was hardly freedom. I was always especially looking out for my brother, and made sure I would Never be naked around him. I got into the habit of making sure Nobody I knew would see me naked, with a few exceptions as I discovered a very few who were truly safe, but I mostly felt I needed to hide my nakedness.

That is the pattern I followed for almost the next 24 years. I knew I needed to keep my nekkid mostly a secret. I was made to feel my body was something that should never be seen. That changed in 2004. See blog titled “My First Time (Publicly) Nekkid”:
http://enterwithanopenmindorclosedeyes.blogspot.com/2011/08/wearin-only-purple-toenail-polish-and.html
That blog is the start of my finding my long-lost freedom in life…



You might wonder why I am writing, and exposing myself to the world. (Yes, I am telling anyone who cares enough to read this some things I have NEVER told anyone EVER before. Some of this, I have discussed and tried to keep open with many of my family, friends, and others when the time was right, but much of it has either been quickly dismissed, or made people uncomfortable, so the discussions never continued.) I have felt an urging to write many of the stories that have shaped my life. I am using creative expression by way of writing for many reasons. The first reason is for my own benefit. Call it selfish, but I feel the need to write these events. To me, it is very therapeutic to start writing when the thoughts, and mood occur. And Second, is purely my love for helping others to find understanding, acceptance, and possibly hope in either their own daily struggles, or possibly in helping someone they know. Perhaps it will help someone to understand me just a little bit. Whether it helps directly, or indirectly, if it helps at all, That is why I Find joy in this! If my writings of my struggles, and overcoming life’s obstacles manages to give you, or another understanding, hope, help you understand simply naked, encourages another to be a little more kind to another or just gives you a good laugh, and you forget your own troubles for even a moment then it is worth it. Thank You for Reading! I Hope You Have A Wonderful, and SAFE Day!! JOn~=:-)