Be A Little Naked Man....

For those of you who have followed the blog from its conception 14 months ago, you will have heard me mention my little naked man and promising I would spill, but to date, I have not yet.

Today is that day so buckle up musers. It's going to get bumpy!

(In the blog today, all identities have been changed for privacy reasons, although they would most likely have absolutely no relevance to any of you. I just always wanted to say that).

Everything in here however is true, and I promise, every bit of it serves a purpose.

You have all been part of my journey and stuck with me after leaving the relationship that I was in, and you have laughed with me at some of the experiences that arose afterward.

My little naked man however was what gave me the opportunity to begin to let everything go and really start my life again.

Get comfy musers because this one is a bit of a read!

So, where do I begin?

How often can one person be told how useless they are before they began to believe it is true? That had become my very existence and in doing so, it had completely destroyed me to the point of no longer knowing who I was or what I was.

How many times could I be told I was damaged, broken, disgusting, needy, pathetic, and worthless? How often could I be lifted to great heights and then thrown from them to crash onto brutally sharp rocks miles below, not being given time to heal before the onslaught of compliments and love began again, leaving me in a whirlpool of love and hate that never ended – a psychological state of complete confusion that would never change because the time had never been given to see clearly what was going on.  

How often could the threat of violence be hung over my head?

After the first time that he had lashed out, blacking my eye and bruising my body, the fear spiralling around me had become constant, growing and gathering strength like a rock rolling down a slope with no chance of stopping.

I could not remember a time when I had not lived on a knife edge. A time when I could sit, relax, and enjoy just being in the moment and not have to try and anticipate what was coming.  

Even in the days of silence when he would lock himself in a room and ignore everyone, the abuse would continue, becoming increasingly more insidious with him attacking me without even needing me to see his face.

His aim was that of an Olympian athlete – direct, precise, emotionless – its only purpose to strike its target with the force of a thousand arrows, declaring itself the champion with no concern for the collateral damage left behind.  

The silence would be as terrifying as the noise. At any moment it could explode into barbed and vicious insults and attacks that weakened my already cracked and broken heart.

Even on the days when no words were spoken, the attacks came in waves via messages that became imprinted on my soul. Constant bombardment over social media, it would have been so easy to block, but sharing a home with him and knowing how quickly and severely things could decline meant I never dared to.  

The thing was, as quickly as it began, it would be over.

The apologies would begin, and he would want me around him. He would tell me he loved me, that I was his world and that nothing he said was true. He would serenade and demand my attention for as long as it took to make him feel good again.  

In these moments, although I could breathe again, the anxiety hung around - a confusion of emotion and dread inside because I knew this could not last, but for as long as it did, I would make the most of it.  

I always knew the fallout would come quickly, and with each little warning sign I prepared for it like a storm chaser readying themself to enter the eye of the storm. I would agree to anything that would keep the peace because I did not know how else to survive.

I was not just one person.

I had children to protect, and although at that moment I could not see a way through, I was surviving until I could figure it out in whatever form that survival took.  

Sometimes survival would be drinking with him.

When I did, it made him happy because he was not drinking alone. Justifying his addiction through my unwilling participation, he would dance, sing, and laugh, and for just a single second I could close my eyes and pretend that he was the man I thought he was when I fell in love, and not the drunken, abusive demon that haunted my waking hours.  

Other times survival would be sex - never looking at me, always from behind where he did not have to see my eyes boring into his, telling him everything he needed to know if he would only listen.  

He did not care to see the pain that radiated out from my soul, screaming at him in silent waves of despair, shouting at him that his touch made me feel sick.

Even if he had taken the time to look, he would never have cared enough to stop. His need was all consuming.  He did not want to know that the feel of his breath on my back me made me want to claw my skin off so I would no longer be able to feel his warm, wet heat, and that the feel of him inside me filled me with such self- loathing and despair that I fantasised that death would come for him and remove him from my existence.

I did not care how, just that it would take him, as it seemed in those moments that death would be my only way out.  

Sex became a means to an end for me. A way of satiating the demon for just a little bit longer in the hope that it would sleep long enough for me to find my way out of this maze and away from the beast that roamed its halls, destroying everything in its wake. 

The very idea that his fumbling, grabbing hands could be so uniquely and utterly repulsive to me had never entered his mind. It would never occur to him that he was anything but 'The King' that he proclaimed to be to anyone who would listen to his drunken, sociopathic ramblings.  

Every moment of those years constantly invaded my thoughts like a bullet train, racing through my mind, insisting that I was a fool to think that life could be anything other than the cold, calculating, narcissistic sociopath that I had fought with everything in me to escape.  

I was a shell of the woman I had been a mere 8 years prior when I fell for his charm.

I had defended a broken existence vehemently to anyone who would listen because I did not know how else to live, and deep inside me, I genuinely believed that this was all I deserved.

I had been so embroiled in everything that I could not see a better future and because of that, many wonderful years of living were lost, and I was left picking up my broken pieces with no real idea of how to put them back together, or if I would ever be able to.

The only thing that I knew for a certainty was that if I could, I would never be the same again.  

The good news - I got out.

I didn't need someone to save me, but the anger was palpable and toxic and I needed to find a way out of it before it destroyed me and everyone around me that I cared about.

It meant learning to love myself again and fixing my damaged, broken heart by gently picking up the shattered pieces and putting them back together.

I was beginning to understand that I was worth loving, but also still trying to believe that no matter what I had experienced, I could get through it and come out the other side.

I could not allow myself to feel worthless or broken anymore, but letting the anger go was harder than I could have ever imagined.

That was where my little naked man came in.

The ladies in my life at that time, several of whom are still part of my life and who were an integral part of my survival will tell you - I was awful.

I was like a caged animal who would attack anyone that came near it, even those who were trying to help because I couldn't bring myself to trust that there wasn't an ulterior motive to them wanting to help. I couldn't comprehend that these were just good people who were utterly distressed at the pain I was in and I snapped back, over and over and over.

My life was falling apart around me and the reality was, I didn't know where to begin to fix it. I just knew that I felt like the walls were closing in around me, and the way I was had begun to scare me because I couldn't trust how I would react to anything.

The time had come to face it all head on and deal with it, because if I didn't, I knew it would destroy me. I hadn't come this far to let the bitterness, hurt and anger dictate my future, and I would be damned if the abuse he had inflicted would seep any further into my life.

I made the decision to go away to the Lake District for the weekend on my own and find myself walking out in the hills.

It turned out to be one of the best decisions I could have ever made!

It was very much a last minute booking, and after a little flick through AirBnB, I found the most beautiful house around a mile outside of Kendal. Between the fields surrounding it, the donkeys and geese in the front garden, and the ivy growing up the walls, it looked like something from Harry Potter.

I immediately booked it and began to prepare for my trip.

Just a couple of weeks later, I boarded the train at Newcastle, and my epic adventure began!

I arrived into Kendal not long after lunch and being a tad peckish, decided to stop at a pub for a sandwich and a glass of wine. Sat in the sun reading my book, I could not have felt more relaxed than I did at that moment. It was beautiful.

The town was quiet, the beer garden looked out onto the hills behind and the sun was beating down. I sat for a good couple of hours with my book and just took in the scenery, the fresh air and being in an unfamiliar place that held no bad memories or residual echoes.

As the afternoon wore on, I decided it was time to head up to where I was staying, and rather than walk until I got my bearings, I figured the best idea would be a taxi. 5 minutes later we were pulling into the drive of a house right on the crest of a hill overlooking the whole valley and town. The view was stunning, and for the first time in I don't know how long, I finally allowed myself to really breathe, and boy, was that first breath intoxicating.

My little naked man, (he had clothes on at this point), appeared at the door and introduced himself. He was an older gentleman, around 70, and he ushered me into the house, warmly letting me know that it was going to be a beautiful weekend weather wise and I would be able to really enjoy whatever I had planned.

On entering the house, I was a little bit taken aback. He was clearly a lover of art, and the house was filled with some of the most beautiful lithographs, sculptures and paintings. The stairs had a towering stainglass window halfway up, and as the sun shone through it, the colours were dancing across the landing lighting up every step I took.

Heading into my room, he took me through everything and then left me to get settled.

For those of you who know me personally, you know I can be a little bit witchy so obvs, the first port of call was to dump the bags and head up the hill to the side of the house, barefoot of course. I stood at the brow of the hill looking over the land below me, feeling the grass beneath my bare feet and soaking up the energy flowing underneath the surface.

It was invigorating.

After a short while, I headed back to the house and got ready to go out for a bite to eat in the town.

Over the last couple of years, what I have discovered, as a woman who has no issues with being in a strange place alone is that a lot of people are not comfortable with that.

I decided to stop and have a glass of wine in a pub before I ate, and as I usually do, I sat just enjoying the atmosphere around me. People were laughing and chatting and as more people came through the door, the groups began to grow.

Although I was happy just to sit on the sidelines and watch, within 10 minutes of sitting down, a curious collie had come over to say hello and insisted on a stroke. From there, his mum and dad joined me and before I knew it, I was sat with a group of people I had been quietly observing only moments before and chatting as if we had known each other for years!

I had a fantastic couple of hours, but time was ticking on, so after grabbing some takeaway, totally not the original plan, I walked the mile back to the house.

This was the moment it all got delightfully weird.

Stay with me musers - the next bit - not so great, but what comes was lifechanging!

I walked onto the drive to see my little naked man peeing in his bushes.

Let me clarify, he had clothes on, but for whatever reason, he felt outdoors was the most suitable place to pee. You would think that would be hugely embarrassing for him but actually, he just took it all in his stride. As I walked into the house, he mentioned that he always had a drink in the 'drawing room' at 9pm, and I was more than welcome to join him if I would like to.

At that specific moment, I had a little wobble. It suddenly occurred to me that I was a mile or so away from any other houses with a man I knew nothing about that I had just caught peeing in the garden.

I went up to my room and locked the door in a little bit of a blind panic - completely unnecessary - but for a second I began to question the sanity of the whole decision.

Once I 'gave my head a wobble' as my gorgeous bestie likes to say, I realised that I was being ridiculous, and it would be extremely ungracious not to go down and sit with him for even just half an hour.

Three hours later and several bottles of red wine, we were still there talking.

He was the most eloquent and interesting individual. He had lived several lives in his 70 years and I could have honestly listened to him for hours.

Between the conversations about family and his childhood, we got onto the subject of how he lived and he very openly talked about his relationship with a lady that lived in the town. Although it wasn't serious, it was exclusive, and the two of them would see each other a couple of times a week.

She would come to see him on a Saturday and he would be with her on a Wednesday.

Very civil!

We also got to talking about his naturism and how it was something that he had gotten into a little later in life.

At this point I must confess musers, I was a tad tiddly. I recall a comment I made somewhere along the lines of - It wouldn't necessarily be for me but each to their own. I have no issue with it at all!

And that my friends, that is where it all began!

I got up the next morning way fresher than I deserved to be and got ready to head into the town. I had spotted somewhere for breakfast that looked amazing, so the plan was to eat and then hike.

As I walked out the front door, I stopped still and tried not to show my complete surprise. There, trimming the bushes at the front of the drive completely naked was my little naked man.

Now, let me just confirm to you - there were no tan lines so this was not a one off. His body was completely tanned all over!

I have to say, I actually really impressed myself with how cool, calm and collected I was until I was far enough away to start giggling and ringing everyone I could think of!

Of course, everybody's first reaction was get out of there, but honestly, I trust my instincts with people, and he is still one of the nicest people I have ever met. I wouldn't think twice about going back. Thats how comfortable I felt there.

I headed into the town and had the most amazing breakfast, and then headed off for a hike to find somewhere to scream into the abyss and try and get rid of the residual anger that was creating such a toxic environment in my body.

It seemed almost as if the universe was in tune with me that day.

The sun was shining. The sky was blue. The birds were singing and there were flowers everywhere. As I walked up to the peak, I said hello to other hikers and stopped to enjoy the incredible scenery and spaces that had opened up around me.

At the top though, everything changed.

I knew I needed time. Time without anyone around to let everything go. Time to be angry and sad and to laugh, cry and purge everything that was left inside me that was stopping me from moving forward.

At the top, there was a rock shaped almost like a seat. Coincidence some would say.

I would call it serendipity.

I sat down and before I could stop it, the tears began to flow.

I sobbed for what seemed like forever, my body quivering and shaking. They weren't tears brought on by losing someone, but by losing everything I was during the previous years.

I was grieving my loss of confidence, hopes and dreams.

My loss of self-respect and my inability to feel safe anywhere with anyone.

My anger at allowing myself to be in that situation but also forgiveness for making that mistake.

They were the state of anxiety and desperation that I had survived in for such a long time and was finally beginning to let go.

They were my fear that love wasn't real and that I would be alone for the rest of my life, too scared to step back into an intimate relationship because of my experience.

(Spoiler alert... I was okay and actually loved the time I spent alone after this once I learned that it was perfectly okay to have fun and do stuff by yourself. Some of my best memories were made on my own!)

As the tears began to dry up, I looked out at the world spread out in front of me. A butterfly was flying between the flowers and other than a gentle breeze, the world was quiet in a way that I had never felt before.

The quietness was almost tangible, as if the universe had wrapped me in her embrace for just a short while and during that time, nobody else existed but me.

It was a stark reminder of who I was, and a gentle scolding to remind me that within my DNA lies stardust, and my potential is limitless if I just step back up, dust myself off and try again.

I needed to remember who that little girl was I had been so long ago, and focus on the things that I had wanted before life took me over and blocked out all of my hopes and dreams.

I sat for a while, undisturbed, breathing in the fresh air and feeling the sun immerse me in it's warmth. As I sat, I felt everything begin to disappear and a new energy began to slowly move through my core. The heaviness I had felt for so long was beginning to lift, and as it did, I began to notice a change in where I was. The birds and breeze all of a sudden seemed louder. The bubble I had felt myself cocooned in was disappearing, and it was almost as if I was waking up from a long sleep and seeing the world with fresh eyes for the first time in a long time.

I looked at my phone only to discover that I had been there for just over an hour, completely undisturbed. As I got up to start back, I bumped into two walkers who were headed up to the top of the hill. It felt as if that period of time had been protected just for me so that I could really begin to heal and start my journey again in the right frame of mind.

As I headed across the hills, I felt incredibly blessed and incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to do this. I still don't really understand what happened on the top of that hill that day, but for me it was lifechanging.

Anyhoo, serious stuff over now, lets get back to the man who continues to be naked!

I headed back to the house taking a little bit of a detour on the way back and unfortunately giving some middle aged golfers a bit of a fright when I popped up behind them.

As I got there, I noticed there was a car I didn't recognise in the drive, and it quickly occurred to me that this must belong to the elusive friend who he saw on a Wednesday and a Saturday.

I sneaked up to my room hoping not to disturb them, and got myself ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that I had booked for the night.

Now, at this point I need to explain the layout of my room to you so you can fully picture what happened next!

The room I had sat at the front of the house and leant itself to the most beautiful of views. It had huge, tall bay windows, and in the window sat an armchair which was perfect for sitting with a coffee or a glass of something and just enjoying the view.

Now, to the left of my window was a large balcony area, big enough to fit a table and chairs and a couple of sun loungers. Up to this point I hadn't seen anything other than the odd grey squirrel scuttle across it, but as I am sure you can imagine, my room afforded me a view over the entire area.

I suspect you may know where I am going with this....

As I pulled open the curtains to get ready to leave, I looked out the window and was greeted with something I had never seen before. Sprawled out and completely starkers on a lounger was my little naked man with a magazine.

But musers, it gets better.

Standing right next to my side of the balcony, in full view and glorious techicolour was my little man's very special friend - also completely naked. To top it off, she was flipping burgers on a small BBQ.

I looked in horror as she bent over, her nipples almost touching the grill, desperately wanting to yell at her to stand up straight before anything got cooked that shouldn't be!

In my panic, I managed to knock over the glass of prosecco that I had on the table next to the window, but even that wasn't enough to catch their attention. I assume however that everything was okay because when I got back that night after the most incredible meal, both cars were still in the drive and there were no signs of an ambulance. Phew!

On to me leaving, and I managed another peek at my little naked man as I was leaving to head home on the Sunday as he strolled with pride down the sweeping stairs in the middle of his hallway. I am guessing his evening had gone well. (Insert winky face here)

The train journey home was a combination of serious reflection about what had happened interspersed with giggling fits over naked men and burnt nipples.

The thing is though musers, this became one of the most important weekends of the last few years for me - a time that I not only learned a lot about me, but I truly began to understand what it means when people say - 'It's not the destination but the journey that's important.'

My little naked man, this is what he will fondly be known as forever now, taught me a huge lesson. This was a man who had worked hard his entire life to the point where he had lost two marriages because he wasn't present. At the conclusion of his second marriage, he had realised that something had to change or he would end up in an early grave. He had already lost too much.

He began to focus on himself and embracing the things that made him feel whole and happy and as a result, he became not only a better person for those around him, but he began to learn to love himself again - something I think many of us struggle with in today's world.

All it took was recognising that the journey was what was important.

Every single little experience life threw at him needed to be embraced and enjoyed and treated as a learning experience. Where he ended up was actually a moot point because he would eventually pass on and everything that he physically was would become worm food.

I know, not the most romantic way to look at it, but that is the way it goes.

His energy, core, soul, however you want to refer to it - the element within that made him who he was would become part of the wider universe, and all those experiences would travel with him to wherever we go when we move on.

He was truly living his best life, and up to that point, I was barely living.

Its a hard reality to swallow when life isn't what you pictured as a child. I think there are very few people who haven't experienced bitter disappointment with something as an adult. Do you want to know my advice?

Be a little naked man.

Throw off everything that drags you down and look inside for that little child who saw the world as an ocean of possibility. Instead of saying no, say yes to everything you can. Experience as much of life as you are able to, even down to the littlest of things because within them, you can have some truly incredible experiences.

Forget about your destination because that is always going to change dependant on your world at that moment, and start to really embrace the journey because that is where excitement, change and possibility truly lies.

I promise you, you will not regret it.

Until next time...........