Episode #9: Overcoming Trauma #9: The Beach

Jan,14 2026

<-#8: Overcoming Trauma #8: The restaurant

I am pathetic, aren't I?

Sure, I have good excuses. My mother was a trauma generator on legs. My father was a horrible person.

And yet, I have a wonderful husband, two great children, a fulfilling career, and new friends who seem to like me despite my flaws.

Because Nadia is aware of many of my issues. First, we talk a lot, so a lot of my problems transpire. Second, because I told her a little.

Just the tip of the iceberg, but enough to get an idea and still want to be friends.

I slip my panties to my thighs and then over my legs that I lifted out of the water.

After a deep breath, I pull my sundress up, which does require me to stand in the water, as I was sitting on it.

And after placing it next to my panties, I am now showing my bare back to my family and my friends.

No, I didn't wear a bra. I picked a bra-top sundress. Certainly not because I thought I would be removing it, not at all. They are just, well, so comfortable...

I turn around. I half expect everyone to be staring and perhaps laughing at me, but no one is. The kids are still playing, and my husband is still swimming. Nadia is still talking to Patrick.

I walk to get closer to them, and a noise makes Nadia turn.

She sees me. She doesn't laugh; she doesn't speak. Instead, she smiles.

"The water is great, isn't it?"

"It is", I say.

She leaves Patrick aside and approaches me. As we get closer, silence installs itself. Patrick leaves and gets closer to the kids.

"The first 5 minutes are the worst. You are doing great", she whispers.

"Yeah, right"

"I don't want to break your stride, but you didn't put sunscreen under your sundress, and, well, parts of your body aren't used to the sun and might burn fast. Especially today."

"Oh, right. I didn't think"

"No, it's okay, Elena. You are doing great. There isn't anything else now. You've done the heavy lifting. "

"I did what you wanted"

"No, Elena. I wanted to be your friend. Textile or naturist didn't matter. I accept you for who you are"

"But you prefer me this way"

"Well, I won't lie, I do. But I would have accepted you anyway"

I doubted it, but I walked toward the beach. She did comment otherwise, but it was before we knew each other. I admit that.

"Need help with your back?", she says, behind me.

"Sure"

I don't need to see her; I know it made her smile.

I found my purse. When the naturists dropped their towels, I put my purse there, and now, I can't see it. I know it's close...

When I get close, I spot it. My husband dropped his towel on it.

Was it a way to mark his territory? No, I suspect that he simply wanted to put his things with mine.

I open it. I can almost feel Nadia looking at me, but when I look at her, she is looking at the kids.

Soon, I have the bottle; I start by applying it on my chest, including my breasts. My cleavage is used to tanning, but I am applying lotion on places I never thought I would need to.

Nadia reminds me of a few parts but doesn't pry, doesn't touch me until it's time for my back, and even then, she is super careful and calm. Gentle. It feels... safe.

"We have to wait a few minutes before getting into the water. Want to sit down and talk?" she offers.

I think. "Sit down, sure. Talk, not so much"

She finds her towel. Now I know why all three members of her family have very different colors of towels, and I laugh, because she has a red towel, Patrick has a blue one, and Cassie has a purple one. A mix of her two parents's colors.

I sit on John's towel.

Perhaps 30 seconds pass, and she talks.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk, but I wanted to tell you how much I admired your courage"

"Please, you come here of your own free will"

"Oh, no, I don't mean... Sorry. I... Ok, ever since I learned of what happened to John, I can't stop thinking that I don't think I could have stood by my husband's side if it had occurred to him"

"Come on, that's simple. If you love him, you do"

"I do, but that's like... When you see your husband, do you still see him?"

"Of course"

"Well, I struggle not to imagine the abuse. If it was my husband, I don't think our relationship could survive."

I looked at her. She looked terrified.

"Seriously?"

"Something that big? Oh yeah. I am not built to survive that"

"But we are still good, you and me, and you and him?"

"Sure, I am not married to your husband. I need my husband to be my rock, you know? To be strong and immovable. Something like that would shake my confidence in him to the core."

"Huh". I just manage to say.

"It doesn't do that for you?", she says, worried.

"No, but... ok, I have countless problems, and this proves that I can be there for him, for once"

"Ah, but you are a nurse. You like to fix people"

"You don't?"

"No, my job isn't to fix servers; it's to make sure they don't crash. I am there to prevent issues, not to fix them"

"I see"

But then she says. "I will need to fix them when they crash, but it's not my main job"

There is a pause. She places a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you can teach me that, as a friend", and then, she removes her hand.

"To fix people?"

"No, I know how to fix people. To be emotionally ready to take a broken person and help them get better instead of throwing them away"

"But I am broken"

"Yeah, but you are a friend. I am not dating you"

"Well, I am not gay"

She laughs. "Me neither. But if we were, we would rule the world, you and me", she says, laughing.

Fine, I laugh too.

We talk a little more, and soon enough, I am declared "dry" enough to join my kids in the water.

My contribution was to bring the adults into the kids's game.

It's like Nadia and Patrick didn't think they could play with the kids somehow.

I inquired and discovered they were playing a modified version of tag called splash.

In short, instead of touching the person you are chasing, you need to splash them with water.

Going underwater is allowed only for the chasers, not for the chased.

It only takes a few minutes for John to join us.

I am not convinced that Nadia or I was ready to get our hair wet, but the kids's enthusiasm was contagious, and soon enough, we didn't care. I certainly didn't.

We had fun, I can tell you that, and when we decided it was time to come back, I looked at my dress and my panties and just put the former on my shoulder and the latter in my purse.

The plan was to make sandcastles while we dried, but the kids didn't really care for it.

We walk back toward the main resort, and something weird occurs. My anxiety toward being seen by other people rises, but not as fast as my confidence that, after all, it's ok. They are nude too.

In fact, the only dressed person I saw here... was me! The only reason people even paid attention to me was that I was wearing what is now on my shoulder.

But just as my anxiety was fading back, Patrick brings it back with the previous suggestion.

"Hey John, our kids got a sleepover invite. Nadia proposed that we rent a cabin to have a sleepover of our own. Are you game?

I look at him, and he looks at me. I can sense something in his eyes. I think he wants to do it, so I nod.

"Sure. We go halfies?"

"Ok, I'll pay half the regular price for a cabin, and you pay the rest.", says Patrick.

It's not what I wanted, but it's what I approved. This weekend was all about John. I was trying to put my trauma aside to give space for his.

Seeing that I have a purse and John doesn't have his wallet, I go to the lobby with Patrick, while Nadia stays with John and the kids.

"Hey Phil", he says to the man now behind the counter. It's not the same person as when we arrived.

"Hey Patrick. What can I do for you?"

"Can you rent me a 2-queen-bed cabin for the night, using one of our coupons?"

"Sure. I put it on your card?"

"Of course. Which one?" asks Patrick.

He checks under the counter.

"I have 28 and 29 available and ready"

"28 is perfect. We've rented it before"

"OK, here is the key", says Phil, and I notice that the key is on a spring bracelet, which Patrick places on his ankle.

I approach Phil.

"Patrick offered to pay 50% of the regular cost; I would like to pay the rest"

He looks at me.

"Oh. Patrick?"

"I knew what I was doing", he says, smiling at me.

"Huh?"

Patrick laughs and says. "I get 3-night rentals at 50% the regular price. So you owe nothing"

I look at him.

"Listen, you won't need your purse or dress. Maybe you can leave them at the counter and pick them up when you leave tomorrow?"

I look at him. They are my last vestige of hope of dressing back up, and yet, I perceive no malice in him.

I see a concern.

"Isn't there a barbecue to pay for?", I reply.

"N'ah. It's the social club organizing it. All members contribute to the fund, and, well, we can invite friends over"

I look at Phil, who just nods.

Well, in for a penny... So I give him my purse, along with the dress, which he reserves in my name. I tell him to put it with the keys of my husband. It takes him a moment, but soon enough, they are next to each other on some shelf inside the counter.

"Would you like to rent a towel?" said Phil.

"How much is it?"

After seeing how trivial it is, I just pay the man, but it does mean getting back my purse for a second...

On the walk to rejoin my kids, now playing with Candace and her little brother Jimmy. I seem to think that Jimmy is younger than Kyle, but not by much, while Candance is 11 too, like Sarah and Cassie.

It's weird; as presentations to their parents are made, I feel... light. I feel like, I don't know, I belong there.

I look the same; I have a towel on my shoulder like they do, and well, it's still warm out, and people treat me like I am theirs.

The husband, whose name I didn't remember, asked me if I was a nurse at the ER.

"I am"

"Right, I sprained my ankle last winter, and I think you made my bandages. You had a pink scrub, if that helps"

I laugh. "I don't pick them by color. Sorry, I see too many patients to remember you. Did I do it well?"

"I think so. I was in a lot less pain after you did"

"Good. I normally work in the trauma room, but I do some rotations"

He began a sort of half-monologue of how he sprained his ankle playing volleyball here, and they had to find clothes to put on to get to the ER when it was too inflamed.

I remembered that Nadia said they were a little extremist when it comes to nudity. I look, and both of them have a full, integral tan, and so do their kids.

In truth, I can only think of skin cancer patients I treated when an intern, but this isn't my place to judge.

We end up staying there, by the kids playing in the park with other kids that weren't presented to us, for longer than I would have liked.

We eventually sat on our towels on park benches when they were freed, the four of us pressing against each other on one bench and Candace's parents on another next to it.

To my great pleasure, it was Patrick who was stuck holding the conversation with them, but I realized that he seemed to actually be having fun talking to them.

I looked at my kids. It's weird. The 8- and 9-year-olds, like Kyle and his new friend, do not play like the three 11-year-old girls play, and those also play differently from the 12-year-old boy and the perhaps 14-year-old girl with them.

And yet, they found a pattern. A sort of common game, which was a mix between area control, tag, and messenger.

I know that John didn't know that one; it could have been local to my area, but in short, you divide the group into two teams, and a message needs to be passed among all the participants of a team without the other team knowing the message.

The twist is that normally, the players cannot move or even get close enough to whisper, so to win, you need a mixture of charades, clues, and hidden meanings.

To be honest, I never saw anyone outside my group playing exactly how we played it, so it might have been original, but I certainly played it with my kids.

Granted, with 4 participants, it's more like charades, but the kids were successfully passing messages, and it was fascinating to see.

As a child, one of my friends either learned this game or invented it, taught it to me, and played with me. I taught it to my children, and now, strangers at a naturist resort were playing it.

This is great. I want to participate, but I don't see how! The kids are contorting themselves in the play module in ways that would send me to my ER room with serious joint pain.

My head would like to switch to the barbecue, because I don't like staying idle, but the kids seem to be having so much fun!

And at the same time, what is my hurry? Why am I in a rush? I know why. Because every moment when I am idle is a moment I need to seize because my mother will have plans for me later.

Except... I am the mother now, and the plans are to eat some barbecue with friends and strangers and see where the evening takes us.

Deep in my brain, I worry that my kids don't have their pajamas, but honestly? I suspect that no one tonight, not even me, will sleep in pajamas.

Do these kids who live here even have them?

I'd say they need them for pajama parties at school, but Candace and her brother don't even go to a traditional school.

How much handicapped will they be to grow up without the habit of wearing clothes?

Well, I am handicapped by the strict rules about my own clothing, which I still partly follow to this day. Well, to yesterday.

So perhaps, they will be ok.

I nod. Perhaps even I will be ok.

I lean a little to the left and press my shoulder into my husband's. I wish I could hold him in my arms and tell him we would both be ok, but this place doesn't like that.

Furthermore, I guess I will play with my own adult version of messages. Making John understand how much I love him without using words or physical affection.

I heard something that made me tilt, however.

"Yeah, I would go golfing with you guys after church if Elena joins me. But don't expect me to be good at it", says Nadia to her husband.

Great, I am being volunteered for golf.

Somehow, that stresses me more than being nude for it.

<-#8: Overcoming Trauma #8: The restaurant