Purenudism Junior Miss Nudist Beauty Pageant -

It started in middle school, when a boy named Kyle flicked the strap of her training bra and said, “Maybe try harder.” It continued through high school, college, every job she ever held, every beach she’d visited in a damp, sand-filled one-piece while her friends strutted in bikinis. She’d mastered the art of disappearing into oversized sweaters and dark jeans, of crossing her arms over her stomach when she laughed, of turning off the bathroom light before stepping on the scale.

She closed the door. Stood in the silence. Her reflection in the cabin’s small mirror showed a woman with soft arms, a round stomach that bore the map of two pregnancies that hadn’t stuck, thighs that touched, a constellation of moles and a faded surgical scar from an appendix that had tried to kill her at twenty-five. Purenudism Junior Miss Nudist Beauty Pageant

The drive up was a blur of green tunnels and growing dread. By the time she pulled into the Sun Meadow Naturist Resort, her palms were slick on the steering wheel. It started in middle school, when a boy