This blog started out as a diary of a kind, in which I wrote about my experiences as a nudist. As time went by, I found that I was exhausting topics to write about, so I nearly quit writing. I came very close to deleting the blog altogether, but when I was just a click away from doing so, I decided against it.
I still had nothing to write about, but I didn’t want to delete everything either. Some time after that, however, something happened. My marriage to my wife was shaky and it was about to collapse. At the same time, I couldn’t bear to inflict such trauma on my two children, two wonderful boys who I know I would miss so much if my wife and I were divorced. People I relied on for support abandoned me – this includes my own parents who, on more than one occasion, passed by my house with their heads turned away. And it was not because of my marriage – it was because of the kind of person I was married to. My own mother had on several occasions spoken ill of my wife.
We were close to divorce. The proposal was on the table, my wife rejected it. I had a plan that if she didn’t agree to us both raising our children, that I would raise hell. I would essentially work any amount of time to earn as much money as I possibly could to pay for whatever it took to – legally – get to spend alone time with my children. And if in the process I would destroy her, or send her to a mental institution, I didn’t care.
But in that moment, something stirred up inside me. Well, it was really my wife who stirred it up by imploring me to reconsider. That something said I didn’t really want this divorce. And it was true. I didn’t want any of it, but I felt like I had no choice. As it turned out, there was a choice, after all.
At the time I was a big fan of Stefan Molyneux and I loved to listen to his call-in shows. In fact, I almost applied to participate in the show, but what prevented me was the general chaos in my head which made it difficult for me to formulate an interesting enough question that would be the center of our talk. Stefan Molyneux “introduced” me to Jordan Peterson in one of his videos, where Peterson mentioned his Self-Authoring program (and even gave a discount code for it).
I went and purchased it immediately after viewing the video and over the next couple of months I kept filling in the fields in that program. I wanted to be thorough with it, and systematic, so I started with the Past Authoring part first. After all, the past came first, and besides there was a little bit in the video that convinced me that that was where I should start (instead of the Future Authoring part which Dr. Peterson is most vocal about).
Both some of the videos by Stefan Molyneux I’d seen before that, as well as the program itself, have set me on a journey which I have – in part – detailed on this blog. At first, I knew that I wanted to write about that journey and have done so in a private diary. But something I couldn’t understand compelled me to write about it publicly, here. The name of the blog seemed fitting. Even though the word “naked” was previously used in a literal sense, I figured it could also be taken in its metaphorical meaning, as one would mean when describing a soul as naked, or bare, or stripped. In a sense, I felt I had to bare my soul to my readers.
Even my therapist asked why it had to be public, but I didn’t know. It was only later that I realized that I write differently when I write for the public, and when I write a private journal. When I write for the public, I make more effort to write coherent sentences, which build consistent paragraphs, which in turn build a consistent story. In accordance, I also attempt to go out of my way to explain myself – to go deep enough in my writings so that the reader can empathize. I don’t do that when I write something private, because I will always empathize with myself. When I write for private purposes, I tend to take shortcuts and thoughts like “Oh, I’ll know what this bit refers to” are common rationalizations for these shortcuts. But the thing is, I forget what most things are referring to. I may have dealt with an issue by “writing it out”, so to speak, but I couldn’t reconstruct what I meant if I came back to what I’d written months later (and yes, I do re-read what I’d written every now and then).
I realized I could just take the whole thing down after hitting “Publish”, but I also knew I could deceive myself like that only once. But then I remembered one of my childhood frustrations with certain situations, as well as certain movies I watched. It had to do with the circulation of information.
When I was very young, about 4 or 5 years old, my mother woke me up early one morning. She said I was getting married. My aunts laughed when I was being seriously confused about the prospect. I’d never even met my future “wife”!
After several months, or years more likely, of my insisting that I was married, I was told that I was actually a page boy (if that’s the correct term, it took me a while to translate our local word to English) at one of my aunt’s wedding(s) and the girl I was “marrying” was a child bridesmaid.
What angered me about it was that I wasn’t told anything about it. Moreover, I was lied to and laughed at when I was genuinely confused about what I didn’t know at the time were lies. I could tell that my mother and my aunts were not being honest and I could tell that they thought that they were just being funny, but that was really mean of all three of them, to make practical jokes at a child’s expense. And moreover, to not at all tell the truth!
As I grew older, I’d get extremely frustrated while watching movies in which characters withheld information from each other, when it was clear that sharing information was the only way that their problems could be resolved. I imagined that most problems in the real world would also simply go away if information was shared. What I didn’t realize was that over time, I’d become the person who not only does not share information, but also falsifies it.
When I look back at my situation, I assume I would have been better off long-term had I been telling the truth, but I also understand why I didn’t. It wasn’t merely because it was dangerous for me to do so. I never really had anyone to model that for me. Lies were often told in our household, especially about things that were important, or important things were never discussed. Even now it is next to impossible for me to have, or initiate, deep conversations. I’ve never even witnessed one happen, except – occasionally – on movies.
Writing is the only way I can really express myself. It is my outlet and it always has been. People say that drawing is also good, but I’m terrible at it. And so, here is this blog. A blog where I share information as I believe it should be shared among humans.
One could rightfully say that you would share such information with people who are close to you; people you care about most. And I agree. You should be able to. But what happens when that is not an option, as in my case? What happens when people who raised you, people who you’ve fallen in love, would rather not delve into the depths of their soul, let alone yours? Then you are alone, and you have nowhere to turn for guidance.
Regardless of that, I found that these writings, as well as the various meditation and visualization techniques that I tried, helped me in saving my marriage. I realized that I can completely avoid situations that used to happen, which had almost led to our divorce, by the way I respond. I also realized that many of those situations were of my own making, because I was continuing to employ the tactics that were left over for me from childhood from dealing with my parents and aunts and uncles… when those tactics were unnecessary, even harmful. This was that third choice that my subconscious was hopelessly screaming at me as I was preparing divorce papers.
You could say that I’m trying to build an on-line community where people heal themselves and others in the group in this manner – through getting to know themselves, others, and doing – and helping others do – some serious shadow work. But that would be fantastic! Instead, right now, I’m merely trying to see if there are people who relate to anything I’m writing; anything I’m feeling.
If you do, feel free to let me know.