Still, I admire people who are carefree when it comes to their own and others’ bodies, people who view nudity as what it is: natural. Add to that teenage body-image insecurities, and you get a girl who wore only one-piece swimsuits until she was 22 years old (even now it’s a tankini). I grew up in a conservative Midwestern household where it was less than encouraged. Even among my American friends, I’m one of the most prudish. Probably because I’m so uncomfortable with nudity myself. I find the idea of nude beaches and villages funny, impressive and disgusting all at once. So I look straight forward and meet their gaze when they nod and say, “Bonjour.” I wait until they’re out of earshot before bursting into giggles. I don’t want to look directly at them, but I don’t want to seem like I’m averting my eyes. This is downright normal, I think.īut nearing the beach, I see my first naked couple walking hand-in-hand towards me. I pass parking lots and hotels as I walk toward the ocean, surprised and kind of disappointed to see that everyone around is at least partly clothed. “Do I really have to pay if I’m just checking it out for a few minutes?” She smiles and slides me a ticket. Zut! I realize I didn’t bring any money and, anyway, six euros seems a bit much considering I have no intention of staying long or taking off my clothes. Stopping at the gate, I look at the day-pass prices. How could I say I’d lived in Le Cap d’Agde for an entire year and never saw this famous Mecca for nudists the world over, especially when it was only a 15-minute walk from my front door?
And a nudist beach seems so quintessentially European. I didn’t exactly want to go, but I have this compulsion to explore every aspect of a culture that I can whenever I’m traveling. I don’t know who would be a worse father, my dad or George W Bush.I was in a bind. My dad also beat up and abused my mom before she finally divorced his ass. It was a big decision for me because I lived in a city (Louisville, KY) my whole life, and my mom moved to Carrollton, KY which is a rural area with nothing to do. I moved out to live with my mom because she doesn’t beat me up. I think she’s scared not to over-achieve to make him happy. I don’t know if he ever abused her in any other way, physical or not. He slapped her hard one time when she was little. I worry about my sister who is still living with him. My dad also used to beat me up all of the time when I was a kid and I couldn’t fight back hard enough to win a fight against him even once. So I slept on a cot for a long time going to middle school every day after sleeping uncomfortably every night but it was better than getting woken up by being humped by my dad. I got tired of getting woken up by getting humped by my dad so I asked him to buy me a cot to sleep on.
Every now and then it would happen again and I kept telling him to wake up because he was humping me again. I didn’t know if he was asleep so I said “wake up” to tell him he was humping me. I turned around and found my dad humping me. One night morning I woke up and felt my something rubbing against my backside. My dad didn’t want to buy me a new bed because he is cheap, so we both slept in his bed. After my parents got a divorce when I was around the age of puberty my dad rented a two bedroom apartment for me, my sister, and him. My dad used to hump me when I was asleep.