Category Archives: women

The Road to OZ

The Road to OZ

It’s been 2.5 years since I last sat down and gave attention to this blog.  Since I gave attention to the writing I love so dearly and the tool in which I most effectively process life’s shifting landscape.   The tool that allows me to bring connection to my circles.

In these 2.5 years, I have been wrestling with purpose, passion, values, self-worth, belief, and a loud inner critic that has invited me to play small.  I bought in to the lies of that critic.  The lies that it doesn’t matter if I write my stories.  It doesn’t matter if I share those stories.  It doesn’t matter if I stop bringing you in to my world.  It doesn’t matter if I live in alignment with my integrity and values system.  It doesn’t matter if I shave off a little edge of my authenticity to help people digest my life’s journey.  I bought in to the lie that in order to stay safe, to survive, I had to shed a part of me that others may not appreciate.  I chose silence.  I chose complacency.  I chose to don the masks.

At the beginning of 2017 (my 40th birthday), I began to tame that nasty inner critic.  I got clear on my values. I stepped back in to alignment.  I started creating visions of all that I wanted to manifest and I threw caution to the wind taking a trust fall straight in to the arms of the loving Universe.  I had Absolute clarity that it was time to quit playing small and it was time to step in to my power.

So it turns out that it DOES matter if I share my stories.  It matters to me.  And when I flow from that place of alignment, that place of listening, my stories stir something in others because we are all connected.  We are all taking this life journey together.  My story is your story or the story of someone you know.   I hope my sharings will inspire, push boundaries, cause you to listen to your universal nudges, step in to alignment with yourself and your 2017-07-13 07.56.57values, take risks, spark imagination, and if nothing else, help you to connect to the world around you.  Sitting here, at my desk in the Costa Rican Rainforest (more on that to come!), letting the words spill out of me, I have this elation.   I’m semi-giddy with excitement.  I’m hopeful the story munchkins will forgive my 2.5 year denial of their existence and visit me often going forward.   I’m fully committed to honoring the words whispered to me in the night, and on my runs, and any time they smack me upside the head singing in their munchkin voices, “This world you are experiencing is just SO magnificent.  Share the wonderment! Follow the yellow brick road.”

This blog will continue to cover a vast array of topics that will include family adventures, travel, living in Costa Rica, nature-inspired learnings, and general sharings of something that lights me up or makes me go hmmmm.  I will continue to spill the thoughts of living a freethinking, open-spirited family life.  I will have a secondary wordpress blog at SoGoodSoPure (coming very soon!) that will cover topics related to my Coaching Business.  There you will find topics geared toward women who are wanting to shed shame, learn vulnerability, find their authentic voice, step in to their unique power, and begin sharing their gifts with the world.  Both blogs will continue to be intimate and sometimes raw in their content.  Not all stories are happy stories but that does not lessen their need to be shared.  Life is messy and in the messy is where we feel most alone. Sharing our stories can be the catalyst of connection and ease our loneliness.  This is what I seek to do.  I fully believe that a life unmasked, a life untidy, is a life worth living. And the more we show up authentically in this big big world the more the world will heal.

That said, it weighed heavily on me as to whether or not I should go through and deleteyellowbrickroad the old posts in this blog as some are controversial, some are angry, and some are misplaced, and some I no longer identify with.  I concluded that those blogs are the bricks that paved my yellow brick road.  The stories, releases, perspectives, and feelings were necessary and are NOT meant to be erased in order to appease an audience of readers.  If you aren’t a fan of the journey I traveled to be where I am today, no problem.  Maybe instead, appreciate that the journey brought you the content you are reading today.  These new sharings of my life experiences/observances are the next yellow bricks in what is certain to be a lifetime of brick laying because I’m not certain one ever reaches OZ.

Journey On, Readers.   Journey On.


I Choose to LOL (Live Out Loud)


imagesAbout a month ago, I was in a real slump.  I was feeling inferior to other people (particularly women).  I was feeling insecure and questioning my worth as a human being.  I was feeling ugly and negatively judging my body.  I was feeling self conscious in my old mini-van and it’s lack of cool.   I was resenting my role as a mom.  The boys, they too, had stolen my cool factor.  I was doubting my ability to go back in to the work force and contribute quality work that others would value.  I began to become dissatisfied with the size of my home, the style of my clothes, the color of my hair, the small number in my bank account.  I was comparing, judging, and sitting in the ugliness of the stories my mind was creating and buying. The lies began their sneaky little job of creating this web of madness within me.

Once I realized that this funk was turning ugly and affecting the way I was viewing the world and treating the people around me, I decided I needed to take a hard look at what had changed to cause such unhappiness.  Adam had been out of town during this period of downward spiraling and I had engaged in a lot of, what I believed to be, harmless fun.  I watched Bachelor in Paradise from beginning to end.  I watched the Kardashians.  I lazily browsed on Pinterest and Etsy while watching music videos.  And I was on social media much more frequently…even adding the FB app to my phone.  Media was actually affecting my view of the world.  My view of self.

And there it was, the answer was that simple. I am sensitive to what I view and can easily fall victim to the solicitous agenda of media. I know that not everybody will be as sensitive as I am to overt sexuality and portrayals of what women should be.  Some of us are more sensitive to violence or consumerism or the top ten lists of how to be perfect in some fashion of life from parenting, religion, or home organization. We are all comparing ourselves to a standard sold to us. We are always “failing” at something according to someone. Even if that someone lives inside an electronic box selling a non-existent one-size-fits-all-perfection-solution.  I bought in to the lies, sold to me by the people inside that box, that my 36-year-old female self was all washed up. If I don’t look like the Kardashians, sell sex like JLo, have the same perky body of the women competing for “love” on Bachelor in Paradise, if I’m not as perfect as all my “friends” on FB, and if I’m not buying or wearing the latest/greatest…well then I’m not worth anything. I’m not attractive. My husband won’t want me for much longer. I need to make changes. Run faster. Workout harder. Get a six pack. Make more money. Eat less. Dress sexier. I’m clearly inadequate. I need to be better. Lie after lie quickly building a foundation of self hatred. I wanted to hide my insecurities from all of you. From my friends, my family, my husband. I wanted to appear stronger and more secure than I was. And so I hid. I had been hiding other areas of my life and just added my insecurities and self hatred to the dark corner of other secrets.  The longer I hid, the more insecure I felt. I was now living a false truth. Another mark against my clearly flawed self.

Lucky for me (and those around me), I was quick to recognize that my thoughts were turning into an ugly infestation and I was able to reflect quietly enough to identify the culprit. That damn media had its grasp again. I immediately turned off the media inputs, reached out to my girlfriends and was open about how I was feeling and I soon found myself worthy again. As I rid my life of the noise shouting at me who I was, who I wasn’t, and who I should be, I found who I really am.   In the silence, I found that I am me. Perfect me. And you are you. Perfect you.


One way that I have found my center time and time again is to be vulnerable in sharing. I find great healing in sharing in this blog. I become connected to those around me when I let down my guard and show vulnerability in sharing my struggles. I find that others open up and share too. We build a safe community where we can be real and genuine no matter where we are in our journeys. I recognized in this time of disliking myself that I had stepped away from my purpose of living out loud. I had started to hide for fear of being judged. I had gone inward and become alone. I had lost some of my integrity. I needed a good kick start to getting back to a life of vulnerability and authenticity. I was given that good kick-in-the- ass a few weeks ago when I had the pleasure of attending an event in which Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild, wa10174916_10152050667061493_5333993137919276168_ns speaking. In that forum, she spoke about Radical Honesty. Cheryl’s belief was the equivalent of my belief of living out loud. Here was a woman who was baring her life in a truly authentic way and I, along with so many others, connect with this type of vulnerability. I felt the pull and encouragement to come out of hiding and begin sharing again.


I’ve started by sharing my deep, dark, scary secrets with my best friend, my husband. He’s held such a safe space for me and encouraged me to share whatever my heart needs to share. With his encouragement, I am ready to restart the practice of Living Out Loud with Radical Honesty. I hope that you all will continue to hold a safe space for my sharing, for the sharing of others, and find your safe spaces for vulnerability too. Start by sharing one secret with someone you find trustworthy. Or even begin by writing down the scariest secret you can think of sharing and burn it or bury it. Just writing it down is one step toward healing and letting it go. Freedom from the lie that secret has sold you.  I think you’ll find the more you share the less scary it becomes. And you’ll start to love you a helluva a lot more. Others will gravitate toward you because your energy will be absolutely pure. And, before you know it, you’ll not only be your own safe place but a safe place for others to practice Radical Honesty.


So who’s with me? Who’s ready to LIVE OUT LOUD? Journey with me, Friends! Let’s change ourselves, our circles and our communities with a little bit of Radical Honesty!





When Will I See Me?


I’ve spent the last few months testing the waters with subsurface topics that are relatively safe from judgement and argument but today I feel I’m ready to plunge back in to the nitty gritty writing that requires a certain level of vulnerability.   I’ve written a list of topics that I feel passionate about and hope to explore during the next few months.  Topics that include same sex relationships, sex talks with kids, Why You Shouldn’t Have Four Boys, Secular Humanism, Being Vegetarian, Using Children in Politics, Gun Control, Who Am I?, Ken Ham in schools, Little League Pledge, Boy Scouts, The Harm in Media, etc etc.  There will still be humor, family blurbs, and positive posts mixed in but I’m a freethinking mama and freethinking mamas think non-stop.  And all that thinking needs an outlet.  Thinking With Vitality is my outlet.  Hope you’ll join me,starting today, as I share with you my journey toward acceptance.  Happy Reading!

I have this love/hate affair with my body.  Some days I love it.  Other days I hate it.  Some days I look in the mirror and think “looking good, Amy, looking good” only to see a picture of myself later that day and feel like I might just be the ugliest person known to mankind.  Now I know that’s not an accurate “truth” but for that moment in time, it’s my truth.  I’ve always had this twisted view of my appearance.  This view that tells me I’m not worth anything unless I am thin.  A view that tells me I don’t deserve to be loved until I have loved myself.  How will I know if I have loved myself?  Easy…the scale will read, XYZ, and my pants will read size ___.  Only then will I be worth loving.  Only then.  I don’t allow myself any grace.  For example, I had a back injury in June of last year that resulted in surgery in October.  Of course I had to quit running marathons (another craziness that I think I need to run marathons to be thin and healthy) to allow my body the time it needed to heal but I did not allow myself any amount of grace when it came to the weight gain I have experienced post injury.  Instead I have beat myself up on a daily basis for not being thin enough, for not looking like a true distance runner, for looking like the stereotype mom who sits at home eating bon bons, for having to give away my skinny jeans, for not being able to get back to the pre-surgery weight.  But here’s the kicker, if I had never had the injury and I was still running marathons I would still only see myself through fat glasses.  I thought I was fat (and ugly) in this picture:IMG_0081

And this one:IMG_0694

And now when I look back I was not fat in either of these pictures.  Or in the hundreds of others that I chose to delete or avoid.  I was healthy and in fantastic shape. In fact this has been my pattern for the last two decades (maybe three).  Hate myself for being fat only to discover later that I was not fat in any sense of the word and I often find myself wishing I had appreciated that moment.  I have felt sorry for my husband for having to be married to the chubby wife with acne.  I have felt sad for my boys that their mom isn’t ideal.  All of those beautiful moments marred by the fact that I was consumed with my weight.  I was ashamed when I saw the pictures.  Ashamed of the fat woman staring back at me.   Ashamed to be me.

I have seen this pattern playing a large role in my life again.  Creeping to the surface every single day.  Every Single Day I think about my weight.

I looked in the mirror today

I looked in the mirror today (Photo credit: Monroe’s Dragonfly)

I’ve become absolutely obsessed with ways I can get thinner.  My self talk has become insanely negative.  Just in the last week I was in Target and saw these beautiful dresses.  I decided they were worth trying on as summer is approaching and there’s nothing like a breezy,floral dress to make one feel beautiful.  Once in the dressing room, I tried on the dresses, only to find myself in tears and having concluded that I am no longer human.  I am indeed a whale.    Fast forward a few days and I was in downtown getting my hair done.  There were all these great clothing shops and I was dying to go in and find something that would flatter my figure but instead of going in to the shops I honestly felt that I was not worthy of shopping in those stores.  That since my body couldn’t do the clothing justice I didn’t deserve setting foot inside.  And with that I concluded that I would just get on the bus and go home instead.  Not thin.  Not worthy.

These thoughts have never translated to an eating disorder for me.  I guess I’m fortunate in that sense.  But I question how I can be so delusional when it comes to a healthy body image.  Why is it that I can allow a number on a scale and a number on the tag of my pants to consume me?  Why is it that I can let those numbers define me?  Why is it that I am unable to see reality?  Why do I reserve all judgement for myself and not hold others to the same standard that I hold myself?  And why is it that almost every woman I have ever known struggles with the same exact issues as me?

I wish I had all the answers but I don’t.  I do have a few ideas as to why women feel they never measure up but it’s certainly not an end-all list of reasons why.  I think our upbringing plays a vital role in our self talk and our view of self.  I think the way our parents view themselves also plays in to our view of ourselves.  If mothers of daughters are constantly criticizing themselves for being too fat, too wrinkly, too whatever, daughters are listening.  And if that daughter sees herself as part of you then she probably translates you not being happy with yourself as something that is also wrong with her.  If you are thin and constantly dieting or exercising to be thinner then she will also see the need to live up to your expectations of self.  If dad is constantly commenting on the sexy women on television she probably starts to define what sexy and pretty are.  If you tell her she’s getting chubby, needs to wash her face more to get rid of acne, is too hairy, her teeth are crooked or yellow (or if even you are saying these things about yourself) she is getting the message loud and clear that she is not good enough.  Even if you tell her how pretty she is all the time and the focus becomes external she will quickly learn that her external features are what define her.  If you comment on the physical features of other people your child will internalize that too.

Kourtney Kardashian

Kourtney Kardashian (Photo credit: SouthFloridaBeachPhotos)

Outside the home (and in the home) media plays a huge role in our ability to self accept.  A few weeks ago I was mindlessly watching an episode of Kim and Kourtney Take Miami (*gasp*) and Kourtney, who had just had a baby a few months prior, was complaining about her weight and how depressed it was making her.  The producers showed her stepping on the scale in her bathroom and the scale read an astoundingly small 115 pounds, to which she cried that she usually weighs 95 pounds and her husband likes her better when she’s not so large.  I sat there with my jaw on the floor thinking what a horrible message that just sent to all of her young viewers.  All the viewers that can never live up to that ideal.  And here she is calling herself fat and unworthy of a bikini photo shoot (in which she’ll be photoshopped to perfection anyhow).  When I was discussing this with my BFF she says,

I know, Crazy!  Kourtney does look a little chubby on television, even though I know she’s not.  Can you imagine what our fat asses would look like on t.v.!

imagesThis is the reason I got rid of my Women’s Health subscription and refuse to buy any smut magazines. These magazines and advertisements are full of body images and standards that I (and millions of other women)cannot possibly live up to.  They do nothing more than stir up a hatred of ourselves.  They fill us with a drive to be something we are not meant to be.  They teach us that our men don’t want us unless we are big breasted (with breasts that are sky high), thin waisted, firm assed, clear skinned, smooth haired and hairless where it matters.  They teach us that we aren’t truly a woman unless we meet these unrealistic standards of “perfection”.  And they teach us nothing about what it means to be a truly beautiful human being.  Everything is external.  Everything can purchased.  Everything is achievable in 10 easy steps.  And if you can’t achieve beauty when it’s made super simple for you then you aren’t a woman worth anything.  That’s the message.  The media even does this with our women in power.  They criticize Hillary Clinton when she starts to look older, they make fun of women running for office if they are ugly, Oprah rules the headlines if she gains weight.  It’s an endless battle to win a game that serves no purpose and has no end goal.  The only winners are those who never join the game in the  first place.  Those who have learned the true art of self acceptance.

I’m ready to step off the all-consuming physical perfection game.  I can’t win it and I’m not enjoying the

Broken Heart

Broken Heart (Photo credit: Gabriela Camerotti)

ride.I want to start seeing me for me.   To remove the glasses that are keeping me blind. I want to appreciate the wrinkles, the gray hairs, the saggy elbows, the weight fluctuations.  Me.  I want to appreciate me.  Not just me in the physical form, but me.  Amy.  The me that loves others, judges little, is an amazing mom, is creative, inspires, makes a great friend, is a wonderful spouse, is passionate, is genuine, is smart and is enlightened enough to know that this body is doing me a lot of good.  It may not be perfect by society’s standards but it’s perfect enough for me.  It breathes when it’s supposed to.  It runs for miles.  It pumps blood to all the right places. It heals when it is sick.  And it sustains the me that I am learning to fully love.  The me that will always be here even when the scale peaks, the pimples flare, gravity wins, or some other great calamity comes to scar my outward appearance.  The me that remains no matter what.  I’m ready to see me,  Flaws and All.  Because that’s what makes me perfectly me.  And perfectly beautiful.

Shades of Grey-The Popular One


*Warning!  Spoiler Alert!* & R-rating

Today’s blog is a twofer.  Two for one.  Enjoy!

When I began this blog back in early 2011 I had originally named it Shades of Grey.  The title was very fitting considering I had left christianity after coming to the realization that the world is indeed not black and white.  I began to get a very firm grasp on the fact that there are varying shades of grey in nearly every aspect of this thing we like to call life.  And when we get stuck thinking that there is simply black and white/right and wrong we alienate ourselves, we fail to grow, and we go to war against those who believe our black should be white or our white should be black.  I started Shades of Grey to challenge those around me (myself included) to stop spouting off rote answers to life’s big dilemmas and instead masticate on these things and discover the whys of our beliefs, prejudices and practices.  Does society tell me to think this way?  Does my god or religion demand it?  Is there proof that concretely discredits what I am choosing to believe?  Do my beliefs make any logical sense? Am I willing to become uncomfortable and try changing the blacks and whites in my life?  This is what I was challenging.  Examining the different shades of grey between black and white has helped me to push myself, sometimes in really uncomfortable ways, to evolve.

I began this blog before the global sensation of Fifty Shades of Grey was an international maniacal craze.  Now that nearly every woman and man with Wifi or a bookstore nearby knows Fifty Shades I have found that it is time to switch my blog name from Shades of Grey to Thinking With Vitality.  This will save all the poor, unsuspecting folks who have accidentally stumbled across my blog by googling words like sex, naked, and christian grey.  If only I had pictures of Christian Grey naked while having sex!  Even I might be addicted to that blog 😉  But, I don’t.

Besides the fact that all the wrong people were shopping my blog it was simply time for a change.  I’m not as angry now as when I first came out as an atheist.  Life is brighter.  I’m not in a constant state of pissed offness (although I still get there and still have plenty to say!).  Therefore my page should reflect that.  You’ll notice the colors are more vibrant.  The bio has changed.  There will be more positive posts mixed in.  But the platform is the same.  You’ll read about religion, politics, family, adoption, women’s rights, crazy events, sexuality, acceptance and posts that are simply reflections of my general interests.

The challenge is the same: think, test yourself, quit being complacent and possibly consider moving forward in a whole new direction.

Part Two:

While I am semi on topic with shades of grey I figure let’s make this entry a two-for-one.  Two topics with the same name.  One blog.  It’s your lucky day!  Fifty Shades of Grey book thoughts are coming up here in section two so do NOT continue if you are concerned about spoilers or are sensitive to topics of sexuality.

Yes, I’ve happily read the Fifty Shades trilogy and even passed it along to friends and family. If you are a woman or a man who has not benefited in the bedroom from this steamy series I would suggest you at least give it a peek or two.  I mean it’s unrealistic sex on every other page of each book.  With all of that sex it’s hard to avoid a little “kinky fuckery”.  There’s a little something for every one.  There are fast cars, bad guys, good guys, jealousy, helicopter crashes, money, ties, whips, braids and handcuffs.  Oh and did I mention there is sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, and more sex?

Fifty Shades Quotes

My girlfriends and I have discussed this series in length.  Some friends so completely bummed with the realization that when they were finished reading, Christian Grey would no longer be a part of their nightly escape.  Some friends found the series to be a very bad idea for relationships because it left them wanting more from their boyfriends/husbands.  I, on the other hand, found the books as a great tool to try out some new and exciting…..ummmmmm…..things.  And, of course, my husband was more than willing to comply with my new discoveries.  I happen to be of the belief that Christian and Ana will always be with me even after the books have long left my shelf.  Simply because the fantasy of their story pushes and challenges the realm of my own sexuality.
The books had very little depth.  The characters were not a clear improvement from the teenage Twilight vampires and werewolves (which I devoured too!).  Hmmmm, what does that say about me?  I like things of little depth?  Ha!  Sorry, I digress…the story line may be even less developed than Twilight.  There are flaws.  For example, the extent of Christian’s possessiveness of Anastasia.  But it’s not a story of depth that we are seeking when we pick up these books.  It’s fantasy that we are after.  And fantasy you will get.  I mean who realistically holds a full time job, hits the gym enough to be in perfect shape, hunts down crazy people, attends galas and balls, has time for extended family, travels and still manages to have sex multiple times a day with back to back orgasms?  That is fantasy.  Fiction.  According the the dictionary it is “An unrealistic or improbable supposition”.  And the last bit of fantasy is so blech and unrealistic.  I’ll just tell you the author completely blew all the euphorics I had while reading when she wrote a pregnancy and baby in to the third book.  That immediately popped my utopian bubble!  Again, I digress…

While the books are subsurface entertainment I think they serve an important societal value.  These books have opened the door for women to openly speak about their sexual fantasies and desires in a way that men have long had the shameless privilege.  We are saying that our sexuality matters too!  We do this by purchasing Fifty Shades of Grey, engaging in progressive conversations, allowing ourselves the freedom to fantasize, implementing some of the more fantastical sexual situations of the book in our own bedrooms (or elevators if you prefer), voting for what man fulfills the Christian fantasy for us on the big screen, and anticipating with great excitement the day when Girls Night Out will involve women in droves filling up theaters getting a little lusty and carnivorous over Christian Grey, releasing that part of our sexual freedom that we have stifled for far too long.  Shades of Grey along with female pleasure toys being sold in drugstores and films like Hysteria are setting the stage for a revolution of female sexuality.  I happen to think that’s a very positive step in the right direction.

Men, it’s the season of gift giving, and if you want to gift yourself and gift your significant other with one purchase buy this series.  Let your girl get turned on reading, maybe even read some of it with her and be there when she’s ready to release some of that pent up energy.  You’ll both benefit! If you are not short on cash or space or adventure, hell, build your woman a red room of pain!
Ladies, buy it for your girlfriends.  Talk about it.  Laugh about it.  Be free and accepting in your discussions.  Share gritty, personal details and begin appreciating that we, too, are sexual beings with needs, wants, and fanciful desires.  Let the revolution begin.

Laters Baby.


Photo credits:
Color palette:
Tim Minchin quote:
Actors for Christian Grey:
Christian Grey quote:
Couple reading:

Picture Perfect


I’ve been viewing a lot of nude women these past months as I explore my take on pornography, media, women’s rights, and body acceptance.  I, personally, have rarely ever frowned upon an obese person and thought of them as disgusting or not attractive.  In fact I usually find that ALL people are beautiful in one way or another.  True that I am more attracted to the tighter, firmer, more hairless bodies but I understand that what is underneath our clothes has little to do with the person we are or the attractiveness we carry.  Certainly we have all been around that super model 20-year old who even with all her physical Kabam! can’t keep our interest for more than a minute.  You know, the girls that look gorgeous but carry absolutely zero substance because society has praised them for their looks and left them unchallenged in their maturity and growth as women.  These are the women who you like to ogle and fantasize about as long as their mouth is taped tightly shut.

And, of course, I’ve longed to look like the swimsuit models, playboy models, or porn stars that men often seem to think are the pursuit of life.  I’ve wanted to be physically desired in the same manner as those women.  I’ve never wanted to be the envy of other women but to know that a man, including my husband, would think that I could compete with a supermodel, well that would just be a life worth living.
How many of us get caught up in wanting to be physically desirable?  How many of us alter ourselves through diet, exercise, surgery, beauty products, clothing we can’t afford, all so we feel desirable?  I know I have and do.
But the more I research the more I understand that there is so much more than our bodies that makes us desirable.  Unfortunately cameras usually can’t capture our essence but only our outward appearance.  And as we age, as we birth babies, as we get illnesses, as we fluctuate in weight, as gravity takes it’s toll, the pictures will always fail our true beauty.
And when it comes down to it…you can alter me with photoshop and make me stunning too.  I can be thinner, with less acne, brighter skinned, and made in to a picture perfect false image of myself just like every supermodel, playboy model, and porn star I see.  That’s not really them.  That’s just the image of those women that greedy companies are selling us so we keep trying to live up to an impossible standard.  The very women in those pictures are unable to live up to the standard they are selling.
So I’m saying bravo to the women in the Nude Photo Revolutionaries Calendar!  Men and women, these are what real ladies look like and they are far more beautiful than anything I’ve seen in Glamour, or ENews, or Playboy!  I would love to see a nude revolution.  What would happen if we took the shame and sexuality out of nudity? A breast would be a breast would be a breast.  An ass an ass an ass.  A woman is a woman is a woman.  All of us different and unique and all of us stunningly beautiful.  If we were all naked we might start to see the essence of our beings rather than a body I must fuck.  Or a standard I must achieve.  We might all start accepting one another on a level playing field.  Religion has put shame in our bodies since the first chapters of the Bible when Adam and Eve covered themselves with leaves.  It’s time to take religion out of our bodies and leave the shame behind.
Real women take pride in your bodies and the life they give you.  Real women lose the shame and understand your beauty is far more than skin deep.  Real women look in the mirror and smile and recognize that you are just as beautiful as a Kardashian…because each of us has beauty.  Real, genuine beauty.