Why I’ll Never Shower Indoors Again (and neither should you)

Not including the ones at the beach that are mostly just to get sand off of you, I had my first experience with an outdoor shower five years ago in Tulum. It wasn’t just an outdoor shower but a whole outdoor bathroom. It had murals on its walls and even a ladder in case you needed to make a quick escape. As soon as I entered it, something changed. I knew that life would never be the same, that it shouldn’t be the same. When I finally had a chance to fully experience its fluid glory, I was reminded that I, too, am fluid.

In the years that followed, I’ve bathed in a waterfall in Puerto Rico and a roofless bathroom in Japan. I have enjoyed outdoor hot tubs from Virginia to Greece but none of these have compared to the outdoor shower. (The waterfall actually surpassed the shower but there’s really no comparing then two since it was more of a sex thing.)

The past few years have indeed insisted on fluidity, a blessing that brought me where I am today–in an outdoor shower in Joshua Tree. More importantly, it has given me the strength to stand up and say, I am not one who indoor showers.

An indoor shower-er just isn’t who I am. My body was made for the outdoor shower and the outdoor shower for it. I should have understood this back when I fled Richmond after an extensive bathroom renovation. It was beautiful and perfect and wrong.

On Wednesday day morning, I’ll take a nice long outdoor shower, Then we’ll get into the car and head back to San Diego where, until our outdoor shower is built, Amir will  have to spray me with a hose in the backyard when I get stinky.