I always loved being naked. It felt free having cold air touching my skin. I loved that honey brown color of mine. I felt confident with my body. To be honest, I have really, really good body shape, that has been sexualized by the society while I was growing up.

Perfect B cups and a small waist melted into wide hips, creating nearly perfect hourglass. I wasn`t obsessed with my booty, but it was there, like a cherry on top of an ice cream. I liked my face too. I felt pretty, after puberty, of course.

But I haven´t seen myself as one of that pretty girls, I was the smart one, funny one. The one that has more to offer. No one would come to our table because of me, but they would stay because of me. At least I thought so and I was fine with that most of the time. My problem was growing up, being teenager in the era of social media. At that time I didn´t understand that you can be both. I believed what I saw. Brilliant women from one side, and beautiful women from the other. And they were always fighting. I can´t remember when I started asking myself ”Who wins?”. What does winning mean?

Who decides a winner? Society…? Men…? Oh God! My whole life I was obsessed with men. Do not get me wrong, I loooove men. I just don´t take them very seriously now. I won my battle with men, although at the moment I don´t have one. Now I´m fighting against society, against myself, against the picture that society I grew up in made me believe.

I grew up in Serbia, in not very modern times. They tried, but the legacy of our fathers, who tore that land apart was that deep in ourselves, that it was impossible to erase. They connected it with tradition and religion, and that was one of the smartest moves that they made. Because no one go against church or tradition. And even if you were raised liberally, traces of “man´s world” followed you on unconscious level. Society was there, no matter how hard you tried to ignore what others said or thought. Because sometimes we´re not afraid of someone´s reaction, we know that they won´t say a thing to us, but they will think of us, discussing it with other people. They will gossip! Because that´s what people do, they worry the worries of other, rather that fighting against their own devils. Fist I thought that it comes from poverty, then I moved to Germany and realized that it comes from misery, unhappiness, emptiness, call it what you want. Germany is pretty liberal for the most, yes Germany — country, not people. People are almost the same, with a bit of cultural and economy differences. Humans are humans, no matter where they live or how they look like. We all have same behavior patterns in similar situations.

You don´t see the connection? Let´s banalise it. You have rich and poor nations, strong and weak countries. First ones are winner of capitalism, second ones are just there, trying to follow or to radicalize. First ones have high standard of living and are able to provide satisfaction for their citizens, that is often followed by lack of interest for general knowledge, culture, politics. Especially among young people. They prepared the world for ego generation and social media came and pushed it. Are we finished? I´m not sure.

And you have the other ones — third world countries. Poor and rural, hanging on to tradition, oft following one leader, hoping for changes, but changes never come. They have tradition, faith, more sense of emotions, they hang on cultural legacy because that is all was has left. They are more interested in politics than anybody and yet, politics destroyed them.

They behave different just because they have different lifestyle and trends. But deep inside they all want the same, they all want to have purpose. They all want to be seen, to be heard, to love and be loved, to be successful, to be happy… They all have dreams and fears, they all breathe oxygen, they all need to eat and drink. They are all vulnerable.

Even if some of them don´t show it, hiding behind that big wall of normality, all of them have baggage and all of them are carrying their own urn on their had, waiting for the right moment to fill it.

And all of them lie.

Me too.

And they all have their reasons.

So have I.

Understanding and accepting that made my life easier, but I can´t stop thinking:

“In this age of nudity, how naked are our souls?”



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