I Was Ashamed of My Body — Until I Did The Unthinkable

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Today, when my husband and I go out for dinner, I wear my go-to black polyester leggings paired with a stretchy black tunic top with wide décolletage. A bright scarf and a splash of jewelry and I’m good to go, unashamed of how my belly, my thighs, bumps and saggy arms look.

I didn’t always dress in this bold and brave way. For most of my life, I chose my clothes, not because of their fashion, but because of how they would hide that belly and those thighs.

Everything changed though when I was in my late 70s and modeled nude for a national magazine. The magazine shoot never ran, but the rewards were priceless. I came away from the shoot shame-free about my body.

Growing up I’d never really felt comfortable with the curvaceous body I developed. Even my mother was constantly giving me fashion tips designed to hide my hips.

As a result, I never wore straight skirts or jeans; I wore full skirts with belts that made my waist look small. And, most important of all, from the time I was in the seventh grade I wore a girdle, under everything. I buried my shame and hid my body by adopting not only my mother’s tricks and tips but her attitude as well.

The overriding feeling of shame about my body and its shape dogged me, leaving me desperate to have the svelte bodies of women in all those magazines and movies.

By the time I was in my 60s, it became clear that no amount of helpful fashion tips could hide the fact that my body looked my age — with curves, bumps and big hips. My body shame had endured and was now accompanied by depression and exhaustion from the effort it took to pretend that I didn’t look like what I actually did look like.

Realizing I was too old to continue fooling around with body shame, I knew I had to do something daring and radical if I wanted to change. I decided to tackle my shame head on and when a daring and radical opportunity presented itself, I took it.

From my mid-60s to my mid-70s I worked as a nude model. I modeled for art students at the local junior college and university. I modeled for artists at the art museum and classes in recreation centers. I modeled anywhere for any artist that was looking for an older model, with real curves, bulges and imperfections.

Surprising as it may sound, nude modeling in the art world actually helped to alleviate my body shame. I found that taking my clothes off in a classroom or an artist’s studio felt like I was taking off a heavy cloak. Modeling nude in a roomful of strangers wasn’t as difficult as standing nude in front of my own mirror.

Despite the curvaceous hips my mother had hoped to hide, I became a popular model and learned that artists didn’t want perfect bodies to draw. They weren’t interested in what the media said a woman’s body should look like. They didn’t judge the size of hips or the size of breasts or the size of anything. They just wanted to create art and they looked at my body through the lens of their artists’ eyes.

I was told over and over that I was “fun to draw." So, soon enough, I began to think of my body not as a thing that needed to be hidden, or molded through exercise and diet, but as the work of art that it was.

The true integrating moment, however, happened when a national magazine contacted me to do a photo shoot for an article with the working title of: "There's Nothing to Hide." And, with those perfect words in my mind, something happened during the shoot that brought about a permanent change in my attitude toward my body.

Early one morning we all met at the studio where the photography session was to take place. The cameras clicked/whirred/clicked, as the shoot began. The photographers called out, “Wonderful! More! Again!” and stooped and crouched to get better shots.

The room was hot and crowded, the lights blinding, and I was turning and bending and holding my poses when all of a sudden, I strangely felt myself step out of myself. It was as if I was watching the entire scene from a distance. In a moment, I felt an indelible truth rise up inside me.

“Shame is a liar. There really is nothing to hide.”

There I stood, naked in the studio, overwhelmed with gratitude for my curvy, a bit fat, imperfectly perfect beautiful body.

These days, I shun girdles and my mother’s tips and any residual shame. I celebrate my body with confidence and know that no matter what its shape, it has been the companion to my precious life.

In the end, I gained so much out of nude modeling that, if I was asked to do it again today, at the age of 82, I would say “yes” in a heartbeat.

After all, there’s nothing to hide.


Would any of you ever consider modeling nude? Let us know in the comments below.