If you’ve followed my personal blog at all or know anything about me, you know that when my friends are attacked or treated unfairly, I kind of become a lunatic.
I will stop at nothing to protect them. I will put myself in harm’s way without regard for my own safety and damn all consequences. I’m not thinking about anything else other than their protection.
In the process, the problems I create in my own life will all shake out when I’m done making you go away.
A member of the park posed an interesting question about whether or not she should tell people at work she was a nudist. Of course, since I’m a loudmouth and don’t care what anyone thinks of my choices, I happily stated that I will tell anyone. I really, really don’t care.
Then again, I freelance, work independently and am lucky to have the ability to work from home. I can afford not to give a shit, wear my heart on my sleeve and nothing else. I’m lucky. Unfortunately, not all of us are.
Another member would post a warning that co-workers can’t be trusted. That ultimately, nudism is equated by many with “swinging” and once someone knows, they’ll begin to work against you. They’ll begin looking for other reasons to dismiss you, scrutinizing each and every move you make. I hadn’t thought of that. It made me angry.
Lastly, a resident commented regarding his wife’s recent job loss, which coincidentally, happened shortly after her residence became common knowledge. This made me froth.
First of all, what happens here is not swinging. Serendipity Park is a family park and 5-time recipient of the AANR Friendliest Park award. This is because the people are genuine, kind and welcome strangers with open arms. Strangers like me.
There’s no public sex and the displays of affection are no different than one would see at a baseball game or any other public situation. That’s number one.
Number two, personally, I know very few people who won’t admit to having skinny-dipped, having kicked around the house naked from time to time or even quite regularly. My best friend falls into this category and even he won’t visit me, though he often won’t miss an opportunity to chill out at his house in the nude. It makes me want to slap him.
His excuse? Well, he’d prefer not to hang around with other naked dudes. Fair enough. I can see having a problem with it, and personally, yes, it is an adjustment and not the norm. However, you get used to it and before long, you don’t even notice.
I was like him. I get it. I’m not going to be that reformed, reborn person who tries to convince everyone they’re missing out on life. I’m just going to say, “Shut the hell up about mine and don’t try to hurt me,” unless you want me to put a microscope on your choices, personal life, etc. and return fire. Because I will and it won’t be pretty.
Everywhere I’ve ever worked, I’ve known people who have done some pretty questionable things; cheating on spouses, renting hookers, having sex in backrooms or hooking up for a random encounter at a hotel while supposedly at a meeting.
I’ve worked with men who have hit their wives, and worked with women who have hit their husbands. I’ve worked with people who cheat their customers while management turns a blind-eye because the sales are there. I’ve worked with people who show up for work drunk or high on something. And I’ve seen all of them make it through with their jobs intact, even those who were sometimes caught.
I didn’t know these people because I worked at a place that attracts them. Every business attracts them.
We are imperfect, often deceitful and most of us have something to hide. So when a woman is descended upon from the very people mentioned above and fired because she likes to hang out naked, I want to punch everything.
Whatever your reasons and whatever your hang-ups, that is exactly what they are: Yours. If you’re the type of person who would actively seek to damage someone because they choose (without hurting anyone) to be free in a way that you can’t understand, then, ummm… you are very much the problem.
There is a word for this: Discrimination. It’s not only morally objectionable, but in fact, fills our courts with stories of injustice.
So yeah. I’m pissed. And I’m waiting for your argument. I’m waiting for you to tell me why my friend deserves this treatment, and why her choice to live here is a valid reason for her being fired. Or why she’s less of a person, incompetent, morally questionable or someone who cannot be trusted. I already know none of these things are true.
And if by chance the people who are responsible for this (or anything like it) are reading, you suck. How you can sleep at night is beyond me, and this will come back to haunt you. Karma is a bitch. And she’s very, very real.
If you want to know more about us, who we are and my choice to live here, it might be best described in a Facebook comment to one of my status updates:
I watch a lot of survival shows to remind myself that I’m going to die when we have to eat lizards.
We won’t let you starve, or have to eat lizards, you are always welcome here.
This is who my friends are, and shame on you for judging them.