Let me share the story about the day I was shot naked and in public for the very first time. But first, give me a minute to introduce myself, or better to say, my old self, so everyone else who reads this and sees my pictures can see a little more than just the way I look. So you can know what it really felt like, and why it was important for me in the first place.
Honestly, it would take me some, or maybe lots of therapy, to think about all the reasons why I was afraid of exposing myself and showing my body for the world to see, back in the day when I was a young and shy boy. Looking back, I think I was a hot boy, but I hid my body under cool t-shirts when I was on the beach. I was the type of teenager who would wear full-body cover, black clothes and a cap during summer in Brazil. Back in the day, I may have thought that I did it to make a statement, but chances are that I probably just wanted to hide myself from the world, not drawing attention from the people I was so afraid of being judged by. It could be the fear of being recognised as gay by the way I looked, the way I walked, the way I behaved. I didn’t feel brave enough to be out then, in the world of toxic masculinity, diverse orientation repression and hate that everyone in our community fears, and which was, unfortunately, a part of my country’s culture.
I truly believe it had everything to do with my sexuality, the feeling of not being enough for the world, not having the best body, the best look, the best masculine behaviour. Not being enough. That damn crazy feeling of not being enough.
I thought that this behaviour was a result of being a Virgo, being too hard on myself, expecting perfection in every possible way, in a world where such a thing is not a thing at all. I thought it was part of who I was and what I would become… But thankfully, I was wrong, and everything changed for the better.
After ups and downs, hookups and romantic relationships, after leaving Brazil and moving abroad, after Covid hitting worldwide and messing up everybody’s lives…somehow, being in Barcelona feels right, feels like home. Home for a fresh start, full of first times. To present my new self for the first time, many times, to meet people from all over the world, to desire and feel desired by people from different cultures and walks of life, to dance like I didn’t know anyone around, to go out as in a never-ending vacation, to live near the beach, the place that I was so scared of, the environment that is full of hot people, beautiful people, all types of people. Oh, the diversity, the creativity, the vibe, the summer vibe, the freedom, the parties, the vibrant sunny horizon, the progressiveness… all of this feels real. The feeling of showing up and living the updated version of who I am, of being freer than I ever felt, this is real. I feel like I blossomed in Barcelona. This is the place where I found out I love my curly hair, where I feel more desired than anywhere else, where I finally look at myself in the mirror and enjoy what I see. It took quite some time to get to this point where I feel sexually free to explore and experiment. And I feel free, for real.
The shy hidden guy turned into the confident nudist bitch at the beach, the boy that feared being spotted as the faggot turned into the colourful proud gay man, living in the gayest neighbourhood in Barcelona. Yes, I feel better, but better about myself. Oh, therapy! Oh, summer! Oh, Barcelona!
So, it all comes down to how I could celebrate myself than having myself portrayed where I felt most embarrassed before. Where could I strip myself and feel prouder of being queer? Where could I enjoy the pleasure of having pleasure around, being noticed, being desired, being sexy, being me?
I can say I kept thinking to myself: will I freeze when I take my clothes off? Will I feel overexposed around so many people by being naked and photographed in a nudist gay beach during summer? Will I feel comfortable to explore around and have fun afterwards? Remember I feel freer than I ever felt in my life, oh it was a fucking pleasure!