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Communal Bathing Finally Helped Me Get Over My Lifelong Body Image Issues

A surprising thing started to happen: I was suddenly a lot less self-conscious.

Written by Judy Koutsky
Female enjoying hot spring water against steamed window, personal perspective, just feet in water, H...
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I can’t remember a time when I didn’t battle my weight. Over the years, I tried low-carb dieting, intermittent fasting, and more to keep the weight I so desperately was worried about at bay. Then I hit 50 — hello perimenopause! —and any weight that came off over the years quickly came flooding back on. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to lose all my new-found padding.

At the same time I was dealing with my weight, I continued my love of travel, but I stuck to destinations that didn’t require bearing it all. No bikini for me, thank you very much. I did take up scuba diving (as a present to myself on my 50th birthday), but I only went diving when I was completely covered in a neoprene scuba suit. Nobody needed to see my flesh.

Then I went to Japan. The country had been a life-long dream of mine because it seemed so very different from anything else I’ve experienced. I love hiking and wanted to do a trip with lots of active adventure — I had done a so-called pilgrimage walk, which are meant for those seeking to reflect, in Norway years ago and loved how it forced me to be present. In this moment, that’s what I was seeking, as my teen boys would soon be going to college, and I was starting to wonder where my place was in the world. So off I went on an organized group trip on the Shikoku Temple Pilgrimage.

Turns out I loved all the hiking. Japan is known for its forest bathing, which is just a fancy term for spending time in nature. I also loved my fellow travelers, a small group of 12 — four couples and four solo travelers like me — and I loved visiting the Buddhist temples where the focus was on mindfulness and being aware of the present (and not worrying about past mistakes or future problems).

What I wasn’t looking forward to was the onsen experience. Onsens, which are hot springs turned public baths, are a mainstay in Japanese culture. Unlike a jacuzzi in the U.S. the onsen experience is done in the nude.

Usually when I travel, my weight insecurities are at bay; I’m too busy exploring, meeting new people and experiencing new cultures to focus on any extra weight I am carrying around. But suddenly, in Japan, my weight insecurities came flooding back.

There’s a whole onsen etiquette to be followed. First, you take off your clothes and go naked into what I call the scrubbing area. There, a line of small stools are lined up in front of hand held showers and mirrors. The women (the onsens, thankfully, were segregated by gender) sat on these little stools and scrubbed themselves clean. There’s no curtain or barrier between stools, everyone sits in a row and washes themselves communally. After you’re scrubbed and cleaned, you then get to do the best part of the onsen — soaking in a variety of warm, hot and even cold plunge pools. Some onsens have only one bath, where everyone sits together, while others have indoor and outdoor tubs of various sizes.

I figured I’d maybe try out the onsen once during my trip. But I soon discovered that in the traditional Japanese inns where we were staying, called ryokan, they often didn’t have private showers or baths attached to the room. Instead, it was onsen or no bath at all. After hiking all day, and being a hot tamale to begin with (did I mention hot flashes from menopause and lots of sweating), I realized that I was going to be forced to use the onsen…not showering was not an option.

The first time I went in, I felt super self-conscious. I don’t even wear a bikini in public and yet here I was super naked with my C-section scars and my cellulite for all to see. I avoided eye contact with my fellow Japanese bathers and did the routine quickly (scrub at the stool, then headed to the hot tub for a quick soak). After a few days of this, a surprising thing started to happen: I started to feel less self conscious. I took my time and actually started to like the experience.

Once I started making eye contact with the other bathers, I noticed a welcoming smile when I entered the soaking baths. All these women (and kids!), taking part in a long-held tradition, without shame or modesty. I started to let go of my inhibitions. Instead of picking the stool in the furthest corner to scrub, I picked one up front.

It felt freeing to shed my clothes at the door and present myself naked —extra padding and all. I couldn’t hide behind baggy clothes or layers (or even a towel) I had to just be, exactly who I was.

People of all ages, shapes and sizes took part in the onsen experience, and nobody seemed embarrassed of their bodies. In fact, the opposite seemed true — people celebrated them.

Suddenly, at the age of 53, I gained a confidence — and acceptance — of my body that I never had before. Acceptance, I realized, is a big part of both happiness and getting older. It took a trip half way across the world, to make me realize that my body was a gift. It gave birth to two kids, it allowed me to go hiking and scuba diving and instead of feeling shame toward it, I realized I should appreciate it for all that it’s done and continues to do.

A big part of travel is learning about different cultures and reflecting on that. Learning how the Japanese accept and appreciate their bodies through the onsen experience, became the biggest take-away of my trip.

In part, being “forced” to use the onsen forced me to face my insecurities and body issues. By going back every day, and often two times a day, it was almost like exposure therapy in acceptance.

Now that I’m back home, I’m trying to take away the lesson I learned. When I go to the gym, I don’t hide in the corner to change before showering. And instead of being so hard on myself for the extra pounds, I try to give myself grace for all the good things my body has done and continues to do.

​Judy Koutsky is an award-winning writer and editor and her work has appeared in over 30 publications including Conde Nast Traveler, Travel + Leisure, Redbook, Parents, WebMD, Prevention and Scholastic. Her article topics include health, parenting, lifestyle, psychology and travel. She also works on custom publishing projects and has worked with a variety of companies including Enfamil, Pampers, and Procter & Gamble.Judy has also held management positions at Time Inc. and Hearst. She was previously the Editorial Director of KIWI; Executive Editor of Parenting.com; and Editorial Director/GM of Hachette Filipacchi New Media.