You’re Still Baking

I joke sometimes that I’m a shape-shifter.

At my height of 6', I’ve been everything from 98 pounds to 287. I’ve been skeletal. I’ve been soft. I’ve been lean. I’ve been swollen with stress, comfort food, depression, celebration, late-night tacos, and survival. My body has stretched and shrunk and scarred and aged and adapted in ways I never could have predicted.

And somehow, through every version of me, this body kept showing up.

That realization changes you after a while.

Especially in nudist spaces.

Because when you spend enough time around naked people, something strange starts to happen. The fantasy version of the human body starts to lose its grip on you. You begin to see bodies for what they really are: living timelines. Every wrinkle. Every surgery scar. Every soft belly. Every thick thigh. Every sagging chest. Every patch of loose skin. Evidence that somebody survived being human.

I used to think there was some magical “final form” waiting for me. Some future version where my body would finally be correct enough to deserve peace. Thin enough. Muscular enough. Young enough. Tight enough. Disciplined enough.

What a scam.

Because the truth is, I’m still baking.

I haven’t reached my final form yet.

And honestly? I hope I never do.

The same thing is true for my mind.

Some of the opinions I had twenty years ago make me cringe now. Hell, some opinions I had two years ago make me cringe now. But I love that. I genuinely love being proven wrong. I love when somebody hands me a missing piece of history or perspective that suddenly rearranges the furniture in my brain.

That’s growth.

Too many people treat changing their mind like failure when it’s actually evidence that the oven is still on.

I want my thoughts challenged. I want to keep discovering contradictions. I want to keep finding nuance inside things I once saw in black and white. I want to keep listening to people whose life experiences are different from mine. Otherwise what’s the alternative? Becoming emotionally fossilized at 35 and spending the next forty years repeating the same opinions like a malfunctioning pull-string doll?

No thanks.

My spirituality is still baking too.

I was raised Catholic. Then I drifted away. Then life started introducing me to other ingredients. Metaphysical ideas. Quantum physics. Meditation. Philosophy. Pieces of Buddhism. Mysticism. Science. Energy work. Conversations with atheists. Conversations with believers. Moments that felt holy in churches and moments that felt holy sitting naked under the stars with people I loved.

I don’t fully know what I believe anymore.

And weirdly, that feels healthier than pretending I have all the answers.

Maybe faith is supposed to evolve. Maybe spirituality was never meant to be a frozen snapshot we cling to forever. Maybe we’re supposed to keep mixing ingredients together until something richer forms.

I hope the people around me are still baking too.

How heartbreaking would it be to stop growing entirely?

To become so rigid that no new information can enter. So certain that curiosity dies. So defensive that redemption becomes impossible.

I love a good redemption arc.

I hate watching my friends suffer. I hate watching people make self-destructive choices. But I love seeing someone wake up. I love watching people soften. Heal. Apologize. Rebuild. Learn boundaries. Leave toxic situations. Start over at 50. Come out at 60. Finally love their body at 70.

That’s beautiful to me.

Especially in our community, where so many men spent decades hiding pieces of themselves just to survive.

Some of us are still learning how to exist inside our bodies without shame. Some are still learning intimacy. Some are still unpacking religion. Some are still discovering joy. Some are just now realizing they’re allowed to take up space exactly as they are.

That process deserves tenderness.

So wherever you are right now, maybe give yourself a little grace.

Maybe you’re not behind.

Maybe you’re just still baking.

Your body is still baking.
Your heart is still baking.
Your beliefs are still baking.
Your confidence is still baking.
Your sexuality is still baking.
Your understanding of yourself is still coming together.

And that big, beautiful cake that you are?

It probably needs a little more time for the flavors to fully come together.