Robin Korth

My ‘Naked’ Truth by Robin Korth

Articles Submitted by Guest Authors, Confessions, Kindness, Kindness - Real-life Examples, Kindness Reflections 23 comments

My ‘Naked’ Truth by Robin Korth

Robin Korth

Naked, I stood at the closet doors with the lights on and made myself ready. I took a deep breath and positioned the mirrors so I could see all of me. I consciously worked to remove my self-believed inner image. I opened my eyes and looked very carefully at my body. And my heart lurched at the truth: I am not a young woman anymore. I am a woman well-lived. My body tells of all the years she has carried my spirit through life.

I am a 59-year-old woman in great health and in good physical shape. I stand five-feet, nine-inches tall and weigh 135 pounds. I wear a size six in both jeans and panties, and my breasts are nowhere near my navel. In fact, they still struggle to make it full-up in a B-cup bra. My thighs are no longer velvet and my buttocks have dimples. My upper arms wobble a bit and my skin shows the marks of the sun. There is a softness around my waist that is no longer perfectly taut, and the pout of my abdomen attests to a c-section that took its bikini flatness — but gave me a son.

Why this brutal scrutiny of myself? It was time to counter the damage of my culture, my own soft-held fear and to pour warm love on my own soul. It was time to claim every mark and not-perfect inch of my own body — a body that had been called “too wrinkled” by a man who was fetched by my energy and my mind, but did not like the bare truth of me. His name was Dave and he was 55 years old.

We met on a dating site. Dave was interesting, gentlemanly and bright. He held my hand and toured with me on long bicycle rides. He drove many miles to come to my door. He made meals for us both and ruffled my dog’s happy head. I was enticed and longed for the full knowing of this man. And so, we planned a weekend together. That’s when things got confusing, unspoken and just-not-quite there. We went to bed in a couple’s way — unclothed and touching — all parts near. Kisses were shared and sleep came in hugs. I attempted more intimacy throughout the weekend and was deterred each time.

On Monday evening over the phone, I asked this man who had shared my bed for three nights running why we had not made love. “Your body is too wrinkly,” he said without a pause. “I have spoiled myself over the years with young women. I just can’t get excited with you. I love your energy and your laughter. I like your head and your heart. But, I just can’t deal with your body.”

I was stunned. The hurt would come later. I asked him slowly and carefully if he found my body hard to look at. He said yes. “So, this means seeing me naked was troublesome to you?” I asked. He told me he had just looked away. And when the lights were out, he pretended my body was younger — that I was younger. My breath came deep and full as I processed this information. My face blazed as I felt embarrassed and shamed by memories of my easy nakedness with him in days just passed.

We talked for some time more, my head reeling at the content of the conversation. He spoke of special stockings and clothing that would “hide” my years. He blithely told me he loved “little black dresses” and strappy shoes. He said my hair was not long and flowing as he preferred, but that was okay because it was “cool looking.” I felt like a Barbie Doll on acid as I listened to this man. He was totally oblivious to the viciousness of his words. He had turned me into an object to be dressed and positioned to provide satisfaction for his ideas of what female sexual perfection should be.

He explained that now that I knew what was required, we could have a great time in the bedroom. I told him no. I would not hide from my own body. I would not wear outfits to make my body more “tolerable.” I would not undress in the dark or shower with the bathroom door closed. I would not diminish myself for him — or for anyone. My body is beautiful and it goes along with my mind and my heart.

When I told Dave that I never wanted to see or hear from him again, he was confused and complained that I was making a big deal out of nothing. He whined that I had taken a small part of our relationship and made it a major event. I didn’t even want to try to explain the hurt and the horror that he had inflicted upon me. I actually felt sickly sorry for this man as I hung up the phone. It was after this call that I went to the bedroom and gently stripped off my clothes.

As I looked in the mirror — clear-eyed and brave — I claimed every inch of my body with love, honor and deep care. This body is me. She has held my soul and carried my heart for all of my days. Each wrinkle and imperfection is a badge of my living and of my giving of life. With tears in my eyes, I hugged myself close. I said thank you to God for the gift of my body and my life. And I said thank you to a sad man named Dave for reminding me of how precious it all is.

Robin KorthThis article is featured on Kindness Blog with Robin Korth’s gracious permission.

Robin Korth is a renegade and an outlaw. She is also an international speaker, writer and businesswoman. Number four in a family of seven children, she grew up in the 1960s uncluttered scrub palm neighborhoods of Miami, Florida. After years of doing life as she was “supposed to,” Korth walked away and began doing life from deep inside. She captures her experience in her book Soul on the Run (Balboa Press 2014), which is her courageously honest exploration of the power and joy that living is meant to be.

Robin enjoys interactions with her readers. Feel free to contact her at info@robininyourface.com or on Facebook.

To learn about her new book, “Soul on the Run,” go to: www.SoulOnTheRun.com
You can also download her “Robin In Your Face” free daily motivational app by going to www.robininyourface.com/whats-new/

 

23 comments

    1. The sad part is that we have done it to ourselves. I think it is easier for us to live from the outside, because living from the inside takes conscious effort, awlf-awareness and self-honesty. I was not taught that learning and loving my own soul was the way for life to have meaning, compassionate energy and joy. I had to learn these things on my own.

      I am honored that you liked my article. Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

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  4. Thanks for sharing this. As a 56 year-old, imperfect man, let me offer a few thoughts, if permitted. Let me start with the physical and work my way toward more important matters. If you are 5’9″ and 136 lbs., then you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of regardless of age. And, not that I am keeping score, but you look great. Let me go out on a limb and guess he had some imperfections as well – we all do.

    As for the more important matters, it sounds like he will be missing out on someone who connected with him and would have offered him great conversation, humor, cuddling, support and, yes even sexual gratification. Yet, he missed the bigger picture and wonders why you took offense. Well, let me leave being politically correct for a moment, and say he can go screw himself. Now, I feel better. Go find someone who is as mature and fun as his age. They do exist. BTG

    Liked by 1 person

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  6. I felt so many of your emotions and I read through your story. Shock, disappointment, hurt…and I cheered you on when you ended the relationship after his cruel comments….What a great testament to honoring one’s self, loved this piece! And btw, you look fabulous and your hair is cool 🙂

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  7. Reblogged this on Rescuing Little L and commented:
    Rarely do I re-blog but today I felt compelled to share this story. I share it as a 57 year old woman who wants to challenge the belief system of women, beauty, aging. Hats off to Robin for her naked and vulnerable story. Enjoy this article as I have and vow to continue to love ourselves fearlessly and to teach our daughters and future generations of women to do the same.

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  10. Fantastic! You nailed it, there’s a story behind every sunspot and wrinkle, a well loved life and a movement or expression. It is not the parts of us to be loved it is all of us. Let not a perverse male mind corrupted by unbalanced sexuality sway your search or cover and hide any part of yourself because you are beautifully made and the right one will love all of you

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  13. Thank you for this one. I wonder how many of us would be brave enough to do what you did and embrace ourselves, imperfections and all. I read this and nearly wept, certainly gnashed my teeth, absolutely wanted to slap the stupid right out of Dave. Thank you, truly for this.

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  15. Thank you Robin for sharing your story without any fear . The respect for you is enormous and i salute you for your actions . . The courage to stand up to Dave and assert yourself is what any self respecting human would do . You have set an example for others to follow . You are blessed .

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  17. What a cruel man. I think what all that was about was him not accepting his own age and you reminding him of it with your beautiful wrinkles that, as you say, all tell a story. Don’t let your experience with this one shallow man put you off all others. They say that a ten-year age gap works best, with the man being the older one, although there’s the disadvantage there that they might not be as virile as a younger model!

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