You’re Not Too Old, Too Fat, or Too Shy to Go Naked

And the voice telling you otherwise? It’s never been yours.

I still remember the first time I saw him drop his towel.

Not in a sexy, center-of-attention kind of way.

In a quiet, deliberate, almost trembling way. Like a man choosing—for the first time in a long time—not to hide.

He was maybe late 60s. Soft around the middle. Scar on his shoulder. The kind of body you don’t see on magazine covers but instantly trust.He looked over at me with this half-laugh, half-cringe expression and said,“Well. That’s that.”

And then he walked into the pool.

Not a single person stared. No one judged. And something about that moment cracked me wide open.

Because I’ve met dozens of men like him. Men who almost didn’t come. Men who hovered over the “Book Now” button for days. Men who thought they were too something—too old, too big, too shy, too hairy, too gay, too not-gay-enough, too pale, too wrinkled, too awkward, too everything.

And they came anyway.They brought their fear.They brought their years.They brought bodies that had been taught to shrink—and they let them take up space. In sunlight. In hot tubs. On beaches. Together.

Here’s the part no one tells you:You don’t show up to Go Naked because you’re already confident. You show up to remember how to be.

This isn’t about showing off. It’s about showing up.

You don’t need a six-pack. You don’t need a tan. You don’t need permission from your mirror or your ex or that little voice in your head that’s been lying to you since puberty.

You just need one thing.

A yes.

Yes to discomfort. Yes to courage. Yes to belonging in your skin—exactly as it is, not ten pounds from now, not after the gym membership finally pays off.

Just now. Just as you.

I’ve seen it happen a hundred times, and every time, it’s magic. You arrive nervous. You exhale. You meet eyes. You laugh. You realize nobody came here to judge you—They came here to see you.

And you?You belong.

Towel or no towel.