No matter where we were born, when we were born, to whom we were born to….race, gender, or religion…we were all born naked…..and that was the end of being naked and we took the express train to the textile world….Pretty amazing! Was it the fig leaf, the loin cloth, the togas or the ragmen in the garment district in nyc that did it to us! I developed a not so great attitude about my own body – the only thing that we can truly beyond a shadow of a doubt call….our own! The silent messages that we send it each and every day enter our brains and our hearts like the roar of a nascar racer heading to the finish line. I know this…because i lived it. In fourth grade i woke up and …..looked…wow i had boobs…not the kind that would fit into those pretty stretching things with a nice pink flower in between – but real grown up ones that had to fit into a cup size. Not fun – i was mortified, so i hunched, i wore a sweater, and developed seriously rounded shoulders….not attractive either! I was called names by the boys…"bunker hill" in fact, by steven, i am sure he doesn’t remember that, but i do, and it hurt. The movie reel goes till i am l9…got married…then 23…had a beautiful baby girl….29….got divorced….This is now l984 and i am walking along the beach at Robert Moses State Park on Long Island…beautiful day, sunny, breezy, and there it was….i couldn’t believe my eyes …kept walking a bit more and saw more ….couldn’t believe it…kept looking – starting to get a pain in my neck i was looking so much…so i stopped…there they were ….at least l00+ naked people. yes, all naked NAKED…i couldn’t believe my eyes…and i bet you are thinking that i was looking at all the men – all those naked men. Since i had only seen one naked man my entire life i thought i would be looking at them too, but i wasn’t. I was staring at all the naked women, tall, short, round, pear, giant on top, tiny on top, giant on the bottom, tiny on the bottom – all having a grand time and seeming to think that their body was just as beautiful as some 6 foot runway beauty…..so an amazing thing entered my brain…i could do that, and maybe nascar would stop sending negative body image messages to me….so the next day i went to the beach, walked to the sign that said "warning, there may be nude bathers beyond" and i put down my blanket, and striped down to my nakedness and felt right at home! It was a wonderful, amazing day. Since then i have owned 2 bathing suits, bought a condo in a nudist community (we don’t use the word colony) and live there for 6 months of the year. Now the only nascar that i enjoy is the race at Watkins Glen!