*This post is an entry in the 2nd Stratejoy Essay Contest.  Throughout the next month, we will be featuring each finalist writing their answer to the question: What would your TED Talk Be? On September 13th, we will open the voting to YOU, our community, to select the winner of the $500 prize.*

Picture this: you’re about to give a big public speech. You’ve prepared for weeks: crafting your perfect words, elegant sentences and choosing the perfect outfit (because duh…you have to look the part too). They call your name, the audience is clapping and you begin your confident walk onto the stage knowing your red lipstick (your secret weapon to channel your inner Marilyn Monroe) and the clicking of your heels across the stage give you the confidence you need for your 15 minutes of fame.

Suddenly the crowd goes silent, whispers stir the audience and you wonder momentarily what the big deal is. You smile, set your notes on the podium and look past the blinding lights at the crowd. Their faces are horrified, but you give your speech anyway and it begins like this:

So, you probably noticed already, but I’d like to point out that I’m standing here completely naked other than my heels and lipstick…

Thankfully, I am not so bold, and in reality, giving a speech in my birthday suit would be frowned on (in a big way), but I want you to imagine it just happened. Many of us had horrible nightmares about giving speeches and accidently forgetting to get dressed first (tell me I’m not the only one); it was our worst fears combined: 1) giving a public speech 2) being naked in public with lots of eyes scrutinizing each curve, and imperfection of our bodies.

But in my head the idea of combining two of my worst fears did something magical to me…it freed me.

Because what if this all too common nightmare was true and I was about to give a speech totally in the buff…but instead of the panic and fear that I felt in the nightmare version, I actually felt totally confident, comfortable and free?  Just picture it.  How would you feel?

I know, I know, my voice of reason tells me it’s ridiculous, but hear me out. At our deepest core we want to be known, to be seen, but the thought of someone, let alone a room full of people, analyzing our naked form is enough to give us hives and a panic attack.  I’m learning however that this fear actually comes from a fear of vulnerability, and admitting I’m not perfect (a challenge for an INFJ, oldest child).

The idea of being naked while someone does nothing but look at me, taking in the stories of my life – about the big scar on my knee from falling off my bicycle, or the splatter of scars across my back with a story that’s too long to tell here. There is something utterly terrifying about being emotionally vulnerable as well.

Most of us seem to go through a haze of feeling not good enough, too much, or like we must be the only one dealing with what ever issue we face, so instead of talking about it, sharing our stories and risking authenticity, we hide.

I’m still battling my body on a daily (sometimes hourly basis) to feel comfortable in my skin, but a few weeks ago in a flush of longing to get vulnerable first with myself, knowing I need to see my body as beautiful and worth accepting before I can confidently present myself to the world as such, I went to the river for a midnight swim.

And I got naked.

Yep, I skinny-dipped and it felt AMAZING! For twenty some minutes alone, in the night I swam and felt totally beautiful and free, confident and authentic. All the scars on my body no longer mattered and it was sheer delight!  I was in the moment.

It was only after I climbed out of the river and was drying off that I noticed a woman in her bathing suit, clinging to her towel, watching me from a slight distance.  My fears rushed back, oh-god, someone just saw me make a fool of myself and swim naked in the river….

Before I had the chance to wrap my towel totally around myself and dart towards home, she said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I’ve just never seen someone so confident in their body and I wished I could be like that.”

I stood in shock. Did you really look at me and think I was confident – my body is bigger, rounder, curvier, more scarred than yours, I wanted to say, but instead I just smiled and said, “It takes practice.”

I realized that night by the river that when we fully show up to life – authentic, vulnerable, as we are – and despite our fears that we are somehow lacking, inferior or broken (which we’re not, by the way, we are opportunities waiting to break open with love, beauty and joy), we find that we are not alone and that we have the chance to inspire someone else.

Sometimes the hardest, most terrifying part of being vulnerable is thinking you are the only one who feels that way.

I wish more people started their morning by dancing naked in front of their bathroom mirror…maybe then, we wouldn’t take ourselves quite so seriously, and instead of whispering about the naked woman rocking just stilettos and red lips, giving a public speech, we would think…I got this. My story and authentic truth are just as powerful as any other.

I am in no way affirming indecent exposure, or making people feel uncomfortable, but I really do believe if more us felt sexy, powerful and loved as we are right now: authentic, gritty, raw, bare, we would inspire a revolution of truth-tellers about our lives and create deeper, more honest community.

So, get naked, dance in front of your mirror. The world needs more authentic dancers.

*ABOUT SARAH*

Sarah is an Oregon-based mixed-media artist, photographer and writing vixen with a zest for creating a magical, semi-balanced life filled with creativity, pleasure and wild wanderlust. She has a mad love affair with tropical beaches, green smoothies, the color orange, feather boas and fancying herself to be a bohemian gypsy.  She blogs at: http://boho-gypsy-house.blogspot.com {where creativity, pleasure and wanderlust meet} about her adventures and mishaps (and all things in-between).