How Taking A Naked Yoga Class Gave Me A Newfound Confidence In My Body
At one moment, my gaze met the gaze of another woman. There was an unspoken solidarity between us: We were self-conscious, but we were self-conscious together.
It appeased me to know that along with our clothes, all judgments were left at the door.
The instructions for movement began. I was surprised at how quickly I went from feeling super uneasy to super comfortable. Butts elevated up from child’s pose and into warrior II, penises and vaginas dangling two feet in front of me, next to me and behind me.
Sandwiched between the older men, I watched wrinkly man-parts effortlessly sway, from chaturanga to upward-facing dog. Oddly enough, the men were in better shape than I was.
Body odor enveloped us. Eventually, I closed my eyes; it felt better to move that way. I decided to keep them closed — and there was no freer feeling in the world.
I was free, free from any and all restrictions. Free from any and all reservations. It was liberating and challenging and exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
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