[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” da_disable_devices=”off|off|off” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content” da_is_popup=”off” da_exit_intent=”off” da_has_close=”on” da_alt_close=”off” da_dark_close=”off” da_not_modal=”on” da_is_singular=”off” da_with_loader=”off” da_has_shadow=”on”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n
Note: This is clearly not my normal type of column. But on this occasion, I want to share a personal experience that, while involving nudity, holds some powerful lessons that I hope will be helpful for you in some small way.<\/em><\/p>\n I\u2019m really disappointed in myself.<\/p>\n I did something I wouldn\u2019t want my daughter to do. It wasn\u2019t terrible\u2014but it sure wasn’t brave.<\/p>\n Of course, no one is perfect. But in retrospect, I failed to do the very thing I often encourage others\u2014especially women\u2014to do: own their power and back themselves.<\/p>\n Even when it\u2019s awkward. <\/span><\/p>\n Especially<\/em> <\/span>when it\u2019s awkward.<\/p>\n To be clear, I\u2019m fine. But I\u2019m sharing this because in a similar situation, someone else might not be.<\/p>\n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/margiewarrell.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/MailerLite-Layout.jpg” title_text=”MailerLite Layout” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-27px||-27px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n I booked an Airbnb in Middleburg, Virginia\u2014a basement studio on a farm with a private pool. Just one night of solitude to recharge after an intense stretch of speaking, media, and travel.<\/p>\n After a peaceful summer evening, I asked the host if I could check out later to savor more solitude by the pool. She agreed to noon then later texted that a regular guest might stop by to swim after 11.<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t love the idea of sharing the space\u2014presuming he was coming to swim laps\u2014but she was doing me a favor.<\/p>\n \u201cFine<\/strong>,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n The man arrived at 10:30 and asked, \u201cDo you want me to come back later?\u201d<\/p>\n I did but I didn’t want to be an imposition.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it\u2019s <\/span>fine<\/strong>,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n He pointed to a sign on the pool gate – ‘Swimsuits optional’. \u201cYou okay with that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFine<\/strong>,\u201d I said again, unsure what I was consenting to, just wanting to avoid any more interaction.<\/p>\n He then asked to use my bathroom. That seemed kinda odd, but again: <\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSure, <\/span>fine<\/strong>.\u201d<\/p>\n I just wanted solitude. To read my book. To contemplate my life. To reflect in my journal. To talk to God and no one else.<\/p>\n A few minutes later, he returned. From the corner of my eye I could see he was undressing\u2014fully… utterly… stark bloody naked.<\/p>\n Oh shit,<\/em> <\/span>I thought to myself. But did i say anything? No. I wanted to avoid all interaction. <\/span><\/p>\n After laying on the poolside lounge, he climbed onto a floating lounge, on his back, legs splayed wide.<\/p>\n Oh shit, <\/span><\/em>I thought again. <\/span>And again, <\/span><\/strong>I said nothing but kept my head down. I had zero desire to see what I knew could not be unseen.<\/p>\n Then I saw something glint. Curiosity won. I glanced over.<\/p>\n There he was\u2014naked, legs splayed, wearing a large silver ring on his appendage.<\/p>\n W.T.?!*!<\/strong><\/p>\n Instinct kicked in. I immediately packed up. As I veered for the gate, he called out:<\/p>\n \u201cI hope I haven\u2019t driven you away?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, it\u2019s <\/span>fine<\/strong>… it\u2019s <\/span>fine<\/strong>… it\u2019s <\/span>fine<\/strong>,\u201d I said without looking back<\/p>\n Two minutes later, I was in my car, heart pounding, head whirling. What the hell just happened? <\/span><\/p>\n Later, I messaged the host: \u201cI left early. The man got naked. It felt very uncomfortable.\u201d She apologized, offered a free return stay. Later she texted again. He said you’d agreed to no swimsuits. And technically I had\u2014except I hadn\u2019t. \u00a0But clearly, it was not fine. And I had no idea he\u2019d take that as permission to be fully nude\u2014much less fully exhibitionist. <\/span><\/p>\n \n [\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-29px||-27px||false|false” link_option_url=”https:\/\/podcasts.apple.com\/au\/podcast\/finding-the-treasure-when-you-fail-fall-short-or-wimp-out\/id1435730743?i=1000717590766″ global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_image src=”https:\/\/margiewarrell.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/07\/Design-3-1.jpg” title_text=”Design 3 (1)” url=”https:\/\/podcasts.apple.com\/au\/podcast\/finding-the-treasure-when-you-fail-fall-short-or-wimp-out\/id1435730743?i=1000717590766″ url_new_window=”on” _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-27px||-27px||false|false” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][\/et_pb_image][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.27.4″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}” theme_builder_area=”post_content”]<\/p>\n \n So why do I share this now? Because at each moment, I had a choice:<\/p>\n At no point did I say: \u201cHey sir, you know what? This is NOT fine.\u201d<\/p>\n Why not? I\u2019d like to say I\u2019m an easygoing person. Accommodating. Agreeable. The kind who doesn\u2019t make a fuss sharing a pool with someone\u2014especially not on a blazing hot summers day.<\/p>\n The truth? Without realizing it, my default was to prioritize his wants over my own and to avoid an awkward moment. <\/span><\/p>\n By trying to avoid an awkward moment, I let someone cross a boundary by a country mile.<\/strong><\/p>\n But in trying to avoid an awkward moment\u2014or him thinking I was difficult or uptight\u2014I ended up feeling violated and putting myself in a much more uncomfortable, and potentially vulnerable, situation.<\/p>\n And while I am a relatively empowered woman\u2014not easily intimidated and pretty good at taking care of myself in situations that would make others anxious \u2014in that moment, I was <\/span>not<\/em> <\/span>in my power resulting in a man violating the boundary of basic respect and decency by a country mile.<\/p>\n Yes, this was a moment I froze. But it also exposed something deeper.<\/p>\n \u201cThe reflex to say \u2018fine\u2019 isn\u2019t just personal\u2014it\u2019s cultural. And it costs us more than we realize.\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n We\u2019re shaped by culture. The reflex to say \u201cfine\u201d was not a wholly personal failing but learned behavior\u2014especially for women, taught to be agreeable\u2014even when uncomfortable. But unclear consent is <\/span>not<\/em> <\/span>consent\u2014especially when there are ambiguous expectations, a power imbalance, or a desire to just keep the peace.<\/p>\n This wasn\u2019t one big \u2018no.\u2019 It was death by a dozen small \u2018fines.\u2019\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n And micro-boundaries matter. This wasn\u2019t one big \u201cno.\u201d It was death by a dozen small \u201cfines.\u201d<\/p>\n We all have moments when we freeze or fear wins\u2014especially when we don\u2019t see them coming. But if there’s one lesson that stands out from this experience for me it’s this:<\/p>\n Those moments we want to shrink back, stay quiet, or just say \u2018it\u2019s fine\u2019 are often <\/span><\/em>the exact cue to speak up.<\/strong><\/p>\n I’m curious how this experience lands for you. Maybe you’re surprised that i wasn’t bolder and more asertvive frpm the get-go. Or maybe you totally relate. Or maybe you have another reaction. Either way, i’d love your thoughts and feedback. <\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019m hoping my experience can be a learning moment for anyone who\u2019s ever said yes or \u201cfine\u201d just to keep the peace only to regret it later. Clearly i’m still a work in progress when it comes to practicing my own “Be brave and back yourself” advice. Then again, aren’t we all?<\/p>\n \n If you\u2019d lie some inspiration and encouragement to help you navigate your bravest path, please check out my book\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/em>The Courage Gap: Five Steps to Braver Action<\/em><\/a>\u00a0<\/span><\/span>(also narrated by yours truly on Audible).<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n\n
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