During the first summer, after my return to university, I suffered no temptations to re-enter the working world. I wanted to be on vacation - without work-work.  And, while I had to do some work that summer, it was not work-work. I had three glorious months of discovery. By the time the following summer gave me the first sun, I was ready to bring the two worlds together- work and school.  There were still no sparks from the professional corner. Everything was still very perfunctory.

My degree programme was approaching its end. I checked the content of my bowels; it told me that I was not done. I still felt half-made up- half put back together (and that’s being generous). I felt somewhat like a newborn, still covered in the mess and filth of birth.  I made the decision quickly. I decided to delay my full-time return to the professional world.  I decided I would extend my university stay- enroll in a programme I'd had my eye on. I had already figured out that I needed to get the story of me right, before I attempted to write any other story.  Now, I needed to do just that; get me right.

I don’t remember the exact date when everything began really falling into place. I just remember how- by mistake.  It started with me getting naked. Just like that. One day, I just got naked, literally and figuratively, and I stripped myself down.  It was the worst case of thought diarrhea I’d ever endured. So many doubts, fear and self-loathing before I could be presented with myself! But, it was entirely exhilarating to be stripped down like that. I could examine my flaws and virtues for as long as I wished.  I decided to get naked, figuratively only, again and often.

I became quite the narcissist. Nothing was more pleasurable than mentally roving an eye over myself. For the first time in forever, I was so very consistently intimate with my skin and bowels. I'd walk by department stores and almost suffer mental whiplash from sharply turning at every moment to look at my nakedness in windows. The more I took to nakedness, the more I discovered and the more I enjoyed it.

Most times, my discoveries were simple. Like… discovering that I didn’t like a particular food after years of telling others that I did.  Or discovering that I actually enjoyed a book I'd always thought I didn’t. Or realizing that I didn’t need some of the things or people I once thought I did. Simple things can be profound.  Especially, when they are accompanied by lots and lots of thoughts which take you places.

Getting naked, and the pleasure derived from my nakedness, became an obsession.  So often, I would zone out and become so very unaware of the others who floated around me. I cared very little about the stares and whispers. I learnt how to do it, whenever and wherever I wanted, without anyone being any wiser. I went around humming inside my head and smiling on the inside. I learnt how to look alert while basking in my naked thoughts; zone out, without really zoning out. The nakedness and truths I discovered- simple or no- kept me honest. I decided that getting naked could come in handy for when next I became a working girl.

Coming Next Tuesday: #6 From Hard to Soft