I like being naked.
I don’t think there is any unit in existence to measure my love for being naked. There is a frenzy with which lovers who haven’t been together in a while, shed their clothes -that is the exact same speed with which I shed mine when I get to be home alone.
(Confession: Dear friends, when you visit and I tarry to open, i’m really not always looking for the key)
Have we established something here? I am very comfortable in my skin, and this is not a function of how good you may think it looks. I loved my body when I had unsightly scars, I loved my body post partum, flabby, stretch mark laden.
Let me tell you a story.
A few days ago, I woke up late. This meant that I had missed my own bath time and I gave myself brain to head to the children’s bathroom, leaving ours for chief. You see, our bathroom has the loo and bathtub confined in one space.
I was out a few minutes after and he was still sitted at same spot, concentrating deeply on Laptop.
“Uncu, no toilet moments today?”
(All of you who see the toilet as your thinking room, where you go in with your bibles, magazines, laptops, see ya brother here)
“No, I need to finish this”
I shrugged and went my way.
I spent a few minutes after, thinking about how you get that comfortable with a person after you decide to be with them. How you can enter your bathroom, leave the door open and begin to e.g pee in front of another person, even have conversations while at it. I think it is such an amazing height of comfort and intimacy.
In the first few months after our marriage, I would jump up early, just so I could enter the bathroom, do my business quickly, bath and move on. He knew, we never spoke about it. Sometimes I think he would have told himself “Hmnnn, wetin concern me? afterall the coyness no reach the bed”, other times, I think he showed me.
If I was bathing, he would step in if he wanted to use the loo, my bathing in the tub was irrelevant. He would also step in to pee and not bother closing the door if I was sitted in the room.
One time I had been sitting on the toilet when he walked in.
This was me, nude, lone tear, holding my breath and my shit.
I honestly can’t say how I got over it, but I think it is something time does.
I recall one day we were lying in bed watching tv, I stood up and walked to our bathroom, leaving the door open as he liked to
“What are you doing?” He asked wide eyed when he looked up
“My pad is full”
It was hilarious! I made zero efforts to shield any part of the process. He got over it quick and got interested funny enough
“So this is how you people fix it to your pants?”
A lot of people share sterotypic rules about what a marriage should be, about how being married shouldn’t mean losing your privacy. I figure, you go through a lot together -running the home, down moments, stress moments, vulnerable moments, and yet being naked for non sexual purposes in front of each other should be uncomfortable?
October brings extra giddy feelings to me. It’s our anniversary month, like play like play, over five years of see finish, literally!
Afternotes: If like me, you love african fiction, I asked a few questions on ÈKWÉ, my column on the Musty corner website http://www.themustycorner.com/quill-tip/culture-infused-themes-unnecessary-unavailable-unappealing/
Also, for my fiction lovers, here is my last piece for Bellanaija prose titled Common denominator
One last thing, hit the ‘follow by email’ option, you get to have notifications on your phone. I heard Oladimeji Ojo -author of ‘Monitored’, say the other day that he is upset I have refused to author a novel for his pleasure sake, and manages this displeasure by the excitement of seeing a WordPress new post mail from my blog.
Help me manage too, subscribe via mail like Oladimeji.😄😚