Wanted: Rose tinted glasses for Naked in the Trees.

I recently went to the festival Naked in the Trees.

Yes, of all the festivals on offer, NITT was the one to pull me. Not a logical pull, but a flutter, a blip, a warm squeeze in my belly.

I was drawn to this festival from a deep curiosity that I’ve held in my being for a long time - around spaces of intimacy, edgy and authentic connection, freedom to express, courageous conversations, embodying my sovereignty, letting myself be me and letting you be you. This festival spoke to those desires, needs, and values.

Not because I am necessarily good at any of those things, but because I want to learn how to let go in those places.

When I looked at the website and the workshops they were offering, I was pretty excited about what was being presented for me to explore.

Let your imagination go wild and you can probably name some of them.

I also knew there was a part of me that might absolutely freak out when I got there, and I gave that part of myself full permission to hide in my van.

I rolled with the internal yes - that inner “I want to move towards that”, and bought the tickets. Not a small investment.

It was a wild “WTF am I/we doing?” ( the "we "being I went with a bestie) as we drove through thunder, lightning, pouring rain, flooding, mud, farmland, and… not many trees but many naked people.

From the moment I shakily got out of my van, it was eye-opening in a joyous, liberating way - and also a lot to take in.

Once I parked, the neighbours came to welcome me, introduced their vibrant young selves, and were incredibly friendly, each one genuinely welcoming and curious.

It was confronting and challenging, and also glorious, to be around such freedom and creativity, people wearing their kink on their sleeves and their freedom courageously on their glorious bodies.

I thought it was just the drive through the storm and the arrival that had my body so spaced out and fragmented. I put it down to needing time to ground and settle into the space.

And all I wanted was some rose-tinted glasses so that I could still be seen but not fully seen.

This was also revved up by quite a few special chocolates… if you know you know.

But as the festival went on, and the weather didn’t help, there came a time when I ended up alone in my van. What started as a chill-out turned into racing heart anxiety, spiraling, old stories rising up, and a deep sense of unsafety and not belonging, and alone in it.

Not that anything had happened. In fact, everyone I met was incredibly kind, compassionate, and amazing.

An old energy was alive, and she felt very unsafe. And here was meeting my protector - in full force.

Protector energy showd up like hyper-awareness, constant scanning for where to fit. Only being able to tolerate small doses of the festival before the urge to retreat to my van. Intense judgement of others and myself - judgement that isn’t truly mine, but a collection of old stories my protector uses to keep me separate, and therefore safe.

Alone in my van, not knowing how to “get back out there,” I did the only thing I could. I observed and I got curious.

I got to experience my protector not from being enmeshed in it, not identified as it, but as something I could witness, separate from my Self or core essence.

That was massive.

That small space between myself—with a capital S—and my protector changed everything.

In that moment I realised, again, the most important thing: I cannot fight this energy. I cannot force myself into workshops. I cannot force liberation, full immersion, or openness - no matter how much I might want those things.

There is a step before that. And if I don’t learn to be with that step, with the part of me that doesn’t yet feel safe, I repeat two old patterns: not listening to my scared parts, and abandoning myself.

To be liberated means allowing all parts to be felt and heard.  Allowing myself to notice what is needed for okayness and then doing that. Again and again.

That on repeat is what creates inner safety and liberation.

All the times I needed a protector as a child shaped this part of my personality and kept me safe for a long time.

If I force myself forward and through, I keep giving my protector reasons for being there, and I abandon my younger self. I re-create my past.

The greatest workshop was the festival itself - specifically the moment I chose to lean into the relationship that was present: me witnessing my protector and my protector witnessing me taking care of myself.. this is what helps that energy to stand down.

When that activated energy became too much and began to take over my system, I knew I needed to move the old fight flight energy that was coming up with old stories. I took myself to the dance tent where I felt safe—safe with others, safe with myself—and I moved. I danced with my protector and my younger self.

Life gives us what we need, not always what we want. But when we can be with the steps, we often arrive at what we want anyway.

By the second day I was relaxing more and enjoying myself. I also chose to leave early, knowing more weather was coming and honouring my limits.

I sometimes forget how much slowness, time, and space my nervous system needs to feel safe, for my protector to soften.

My instinct to go to this festival was great, I am so glad I did.

There is a part of me drawn to wild, free, authentic intimacy—and a part that feels unsafe there.

My ongoing self care is to allow these parts to meet, to find union, creative balance, and trust.

That is wholeness.

None of this would have been possible without the inner work, inquiry, nervous system awareness, mentors and loving friends, and practices I’ve cultivated over the years.

The greatest joy of my life is the relationship I have with myself—all parts of me.

When I returned home, the Epstein files flooded my feed. I haven’t read them. I can feel the weight of it without consuming it. I have no desire to expose my own traumatised parts to that. I some time there is an inner conflict that "I should", and I haven't.

It felt like a strange parallel—coming from curiosity around intimacy and connection, straight into the deepest, darkest shadow of power and abuse.

I sometimes wonder if I am still numb, because I feel a kind of emptiness around these horrors. Then I remember how sensitive I am, how sensitive we all are. When I let myself feel into it... it is way too much.

I sometimes think I should feel more anger, have more of a warrior stance against this long history of predation and power-over. A part of me is still finding my public voice here.

When I first learned about this years ago, many people couldn’t believe such depravity existed. The truth is overwhelming and cannot be taken in all at once.

For those who have been abused, the constant retelling and opinions can feel re-traumatising. It is for me and it is also another opportunity.

I know what exists in this world. I’m glad it’s coming to light, and I choose not to feed it. Which is why I am only sharing this on this platform.

It feels immense and confusing,  

Sitting with all of this, I felt into my own body, the sensitivity, the bracing still held there - and I wrote this.

Please be gentle with yourself if it brings strong feelings.

For every woman who wasn’t believed, who wasn’t protected, I am so sorry.

I am so sorry you had to hold that bracing alone.

My wish is that all who carry this may receive the care needed to finally let that bracing go.