HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ME NAKED?

It’s funny how people claim they know me.
Or when they try to convince themselves so bad that they know who I am.
Most of the time when I hear this, I let out a chuckle.
An inward chuckle.
I don’t laugh in their faces.
That would be rude and society hates rude people; or so they claim.
You claim you know me.
That I am an open book with no secrets.
That my soul is transparent with no dark corners.
That you have seen me naked several times but what exactly do you know about me?
Or wait, are you taking about you knowing how my nipples are dark and pierced?
Or how my hips are a darker shade of black where they meet my womanly core?
Or how I talk in my sleep and say stupid things?
Or how I moan when someone goes down on me?
Or how my buttocks look in a tight fitting skirt?
Oh how my hips have lots of cellulite and stretch marks?
What exactly do you know about me?
What makes you think having a knowledge of my body means knowing who I am?
What makes you think that seeing my naked self makes you know who I am?
Have you ever seen me naked?
How many of you have ever seen me naked?
I am not taking about seeing my nipples or my thighs or my vagina.
No.
I am talking about me being naked.
I mean have many of you have have ever seen me NAKED?
The real me without the pretense? My vulnerable self without all the false charade I put up to fool you?
I bet most people will say yes, because they judge me by the works I write but that’s not me.
I bet most people will say yes going by the conversations we have on facebook, whatsapp and other social media platforms but that’s not me.
That’s not my naked self.
You have never seen me naked if I have never stripped my soul bare in front of you without any fear or hesitation.
You have never seen me naked if you have never seen my twin at 3 a.m.; the one with the suicidal thoughts, that insomniac with a crippling anxiety who is waist deep into depression.
You have never seen me naked if I have never cried in your arms; letting my tears wash away my pain and agony.
You have never seen me naked if I have never embraced my true self in front of you. What most of you see, that’s a mask I put on to hide my real self.
You have never seen me naked if you have never seen how I blankly stare at the wall, hurting inside but too proud to cry.
You have never seen me naked if I have never opened up to you about my dreams, my fears, my goals and ambitions while sitting on a rooftop at 2 Am, smoking a cigarette.
You have never seen me naked if you have never seen how my eyes light up whenever I speak about something I love.
What you think you know about me,  that’s the physical part of it.
That does not matter to me.
You only know how my tummy sags when I have no clothes on.
You only know how flat my breasts are against my chest or how my back has pimples.
You only know how thin my legs are or how red my eyes are.
You only know how coarse my hair is or how chipped my nails are.
That’s all you know.
That’s what you see.
That’s what you allow yourself to see.
Physically, you know every corner of my body but my naked self?
YOU DON’T KNOW ME.
© NYAR AFRIKA 2017.

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