Suddenly I am envious. I know, ENVY is one of the seven deadly sins (second in fact, right after PRIDE), but I can’t help myself. I wanna go topless!

Everywhere I looked today there were gorgeous guys and gals going topless. Okay, so not everyone going topless is gorgeous, it just seems that way. Maybe everywhere was a tad exaggerated too, but I take poetic license. Ahhh, the freedom. I haven’t known this freedom since the early 80’s–really. I remember the vicarious thrill of doing it my first time. It brings a smile to face to think about it.

Hubby did it first. Yep, our first date he was topless. It might seem a little kinky to do, but he looked fabulous. The tan, his wide smile. Everyone looked at him, women especially. The boys did too, as he lived in the zip code 90069, AKA “The Swish Alps”. Of course this was back when it wasn’t politically incorrect to refer to gays as “swishers”. When other women looked at him I felt PRIDE. Darn, another deadly sin.

Soon he convinced me to try it. I’ll admit, I was very hesitant, yet very eager to please him. If going topless would make him happy, who was I to disagree? It didn’t take long before I succumbed, becoming a SLOTH. Yikes, this makes three.

Since I spent less and less time with my top on I soon began to feel ANGER at him for ever talking me into doing it. Oops, yet another of the seven. I didn’t like always feeling a need, heck, even a GREED to do it. Oh no, not number five! Sadly though, I let him sweet talk me into continuing to do so, with no thoughts as to how it would ultimately affect me.

I suppose it was after the third month of feeling the sun beating down on me, I could no longer hold back. Try as I might to fight it, the warmth of the sun caressing my body, the breeze blowing against my skin and through my hair, I finally fell to number six, LUST.

Once it was cursing through my veins, it was undeniable, and so demanding. I knew I had to have more and more. I craved the attention. The fact is; I was no longer a stranger to GLUTTONY from then on. Yes, by then I had committed all seven of the deadly sins.

At some point, I knew it had to stop and I begged Hubby to help me. It was not an easy thing for him to do, but because he loved me, he agreed. I was addicted to it. All of those anonymous eyes staring. I had done it in Monaco, Italy, St. Tropez, Paris, Hollywood, and even Beverly Hills! Not just to the adoring eyes of our neighbors. It had gone too far. I was even developing sun-poisoning. Clearly something needed to be done.

And so it was he took me to the doctor. “Yes, you have been overdoing it. From now on, no more going topless.” He said to me in a firm voice.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, it will only get worse if you don’t give it up. Surely you have noticed how…burnt you have gotten?”

I nodded in agreement. It had been painful, but…now I knew for sure I could not continue on with this decadent lifestyle.

On the way home I cried. “It’s become a way of life for me now honey, it is going to be so hard to give it up.”

“Sweetheart, you must.”

“Will you stop too?” I asked through my Kleenex, still dabbing away at the tears and runny nose.

“Babe, I would, but I am a guy. I just can’t without looking ridiculous.”

He had a point. I couldn’t ask him to give it up just because I had to. I needed to find a T.A. Group to help me through it. Imagine my surprise not being able to find even one Topless Anonymous Meeting. I would just have to go cold turkey, but not before one last time.

That was 25 plus years ago, it was very difficult. I guess it is why I’m sharing here; I feel the temptation creeping over me, but I know you all will give me moral support.

It’s taking every bit of restraint for me not to go topless again. I have the first stage, CONVERTIBLE ENVY. Sunroofs are ok, but I still miss the convertible.