The first time I went to the clothing-optional baths at the Esalen Institute in Big Sur almost 30 years ago, I was that girl in the swimsuit sitting on her hands. Today, that girl feels confined and restricted at not being able to take her clothes off in a public hot tub or on an empty beach.

Clothing has begun to feel like the puritanical construct that is in so many ways, across so many cultures. I guess it’s the animal side of me longing for my freedom…

Being naked in public felt so vulnerable 30 years ago. I was so afraid of being seen, exposed. In truth, I was calling more attention to myself as the only one in a swimsuit at the time.

Here in California there are many options for nude soaking or swimming. And while some of them have a reputation for being more cruise-y than others, I’ve never gone with the intention of inviting attention. In fact, with the mile-thick wall I’ve always had around myself in such situations, I may as well have had clothing on as far as others were concerned. In that way it felt possible to be naked, without feeling terribly vulnerable.

Being naked can have nothing to do with the choice to wear clothing on or not. Truly being naked is about having our heart exposed; turning our soft underbelly to the light and saying “this is really me”. That is where we are our most naked.

I could be wearing a burka and be far more naked than the dude in the baths at Harbin Hot Springs when what it is that I’m exposing is my essence.

I’ve been getting naked in hot springs and baths since the late 1980s and I’ve never felt fully exposed until a few weeks ago when I walked my talk and shared who I am, really, with my own mother. Finally allowing her in to see who I am, who I’ve been and have hidden since I was a child, felt vastly more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt without clothing in a hot tub.

Exposing the truth of my essence and risking rejection by the person who gave me life felt like that mid-air fall I’ve been terrified of in leaping off of the mythical cliff.

I was prepared for the possibility that she would turn away - as prepared as one could be.

And I knew that I would survive regardless. I have finally come to know that, in truth, I am a lovable and worthy being, independent of the approval of any other person - or the lack of it.

But the potential for rejection by one’s own family can feel like a life or death proposition. Like jumping off of that cliff.

Belonging. Acceptance. Love that is truly unconditional.

These are what we seek to clothe ourselves in. Bottom line is, exposure requires courage. A lot of it.

I did take that leap off of the need-for-maternal-approval cliff. And she met me, midair.

For that, I am so incredibly grateful.

And I knew that I was held, regardless.